Still Waters
by bornonhalloween
Summary: A stressed-out grad student hiding from the world finds a mountain man of few words and quiet strength. Still waters do run deep. E/B, Rated M
1. Chapter 1

**STILL WATERS**

 _*Written for the Fandom for Mental Health Compilation- a great cause championed by the amazing Jeannie Boom!_

 **/¯\/¯\/¯\/¯\/¯\**

 **CHAPTER 1**

 ** _FRIDAY, MAY 21  
"Mountain therapy," night 1_**

 ** _11:57 p.m. - Master's thesis submitted (3 whole minutes to spare)  
11:58 p.m. - full-on panic attack_**

 ** _I can't remember packing up all my shit from that dark dorm room, my prison for the last twelve months. I barely recall getting into my car, let alone a single detail of the two-and-a-half hour drive up the Kancamagus Highway, but I must've made it okay because here I am. My "charmingly rustic" single is pretty much as advertised: double bed, night table, claw-foot tub, and a slab of cement out back with a rocking chair facing the mountains—not that I get to sit in that chair tomorrow._**

 ** _My "personalized therapeutic itinerary" starts with a 6:30 a.m. "Rising Dawn hike designed to reawaken the senses." I must've been in some seriously weakened state when I agreed to this. Oh yes, I remember now, the panic attack last week, when Dr. Cope said it was either the mountains or the hospital. So here I am._**

 ** _I better get my ass to bed so I can toss and turn for a few hours before my reawakening._**

 ** _._**

 ** _._**

 ** _._**

Leaving my bed while it was still dark out might have bothered me more if I'd actually fallen asleep. The change of scenery and the cool bite of mountain air were actually a relief. Continental breakfast in the lobby began at 5:30 a.m.; I left my room at 6:25. Unnecessary interactions with other humans were not high on my list.

After surviving on five-hour energy drinks, coffee, and chocolate for the last three months, I wasn't ready to go cold turkey on the caffeine. Much to my relief, a giant urn anchored the buffet, and I used the last of my energy to make a bee-line for it. Reaching for one of the china cups—clearly, there was no "to-go" option—I noticed a sign hanging across the silver coffee pot like a necklace: "Might we gently suggest the herbal tea instead?"

 _Fuck you, spa shamers. Suggest all you want. Just keep the java flowing, you judgy anti-caffeinators. Oh, and I'll see you at the bar tonight._

I perfected my dark cup of deliciousness with two packets of fake sugar and an extra heavy pour of cream just to show 'em who was boss _._ Closing my eyes, I drew the cup to my lips when I was assaulted by a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed coffee spoiler.

"G'morning! I'm Mike! Ready to attack the mountain?"

 _I'm ready to attack you! Now, go bother someone else, you . . . deep breath, Bella._ "Mmhmm."

I gave him my sweetest we're-done-here smile.

It didn't work.

"I come back here every few months to recharge my batteries." His mouth yapped on and on. I saw the shape of sounds coming out of his face, but they bounced off my force field and fell to the floor at my feet. "Luxury real estate, blah, blah, blah, top salesman in the office, blah, blah, blah, interest rates, closing costs, points, blah, blah, blah . . ."

A merciful "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen," came from the center of the room. I recognized the boyish grin from the website—Emmett Cullen, co-owner and operations manager. "If I could have your attention, please?"

I cashed in on my opportunity to scoot away from the relentless yammering of Mike the Mouth. Thankfully, he didn't pursue me.

"I bring you exciting news this morning—"

"Alice had her baby!" one of the other guests shouted.

"I stand corrected," Emmett said with a chuckle, "Angela brings you the exciting news." He slapped his hands on his hips and pretended to look annoyed. "Do you people want the rest of the details or not?"

"Yes! Give! Spill!" the crowd yelled out.

"Fine, fine, you don't have to be so demanding." Emmett seemed to be in his element, smiling from ear to ear and doling out small tidbits of information to keep the crowd engaged. "At 3:26 a.m., Alice and Jasper became the proud parents—and Rosie and I became the proud aunt and uncle—of a bouncing baby girl."

The sleepy crowd came to life, applauding and cheering. Emmett spewed details as quickly as he could, trying to stay ahead of the questions being thrown at him from every direction. "Louisa Brandon Whitlock, eight pounds, three ounces, mother and baby are both doing fine. _However . . ._ "—Emmett paused dramatically—"the new daddy is obviously in no shape to lead your hike this morning."

I wasn't aware of Jasper's reputation, but from the collective groan of the group, I gathered his absence was a bad thing.

A man standing next to me guffawed. "Don't tell us you're actually leaving the office, Emmett?"

"Nice try, Eric." Emmett wagged his finger at him. "Those paperclips aren't going to order themselves." He paused to let the ripples of laughter play out. I'd heard Emmett was the livewire of the place, the comic relief to his wife Rosalie's more serious side. I liked him already. "Nope, we have a very special group leader for you this morning. A couple of you might have seen him working out on the east rim last week? I'd like to formally introduce the newest member of our staff, my baby brother, Edward."

Emmett turned to his left, then looked around comically as if he'd lost something—and apparently, he had. "Where the hell . . . oh, _there_ you are." Emmett jerked his thumb toward the doorway. Every neck in the room craned to see the brother in question standing against the wall, or more accurately, trying to melt into it.

Emmett shook his head and laughed. "As you can see, he's the shy one."

 _Oh my god, the poor guy_ , thrust into the spotlight. I could feel my own cheeks turning bright red while this Edward angled his face toward the floor, but Emmett was bound and determined to share his life's story.

"All of us grew up here on the mountain, but we like to joke that Edward was raised by coyotes. Truth be told, Mom doesn't much appreciate that joke. He knows this terrain like the back of his hand. Just follow his lead, and I am confident he'll keep you on the right path." Emmett clapped his hands together. "Okay, better get out there before you miss your sunrise."

.

.

.

The first ten minutes of the hike weren't actually bad. All in all, walking up a mountain was a whole lot more pleasant than writing a thesis on the changing views toward psychology as evidenced by women's fiction over the last century. And most definitely better than a mental hospital.

I fell to the rear of the pack, and everyone pretty much left me alone. Edward checked on the line a couple of times, but as long as I waved that I was still alive, he turned and led on. I could hear the chatter of twos and threes and that was fine; they weren't trying to draw me in.

I was one with the mountain, sort of. And then Mike the Mouth decided to drop back and "keep me company."

"Hey, have you noticed everyone else is paired up but us, uh…? I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name earlier."

I shrugged. "I guess everyone came out here with whoever they wanted to _be_ with."

"So, you're not with anyone?"

"Nope," I answered, silently adding, _because I want to be alone._

But Mike didn't get to be top salesman of the month for three months running by taking a hint. In fact, he took the exact opposite meaning, a wide, creepy smile spreading across his face as he nodded. "So, you're _single_."

I considered making something up, the boyfriend at home, the girlfriend at home, anything to throw him off the scent, but my battle-weary brain just didn't feel like working that hard. Besides, I could not have gotten a word in edgewise once he started up again.

I tried the force field trick again, tried watching Mike's words spill down the north face of Willey Mountain. I went deep inside my head and pulled on a pair of internal noise-canceling headphones, but damn, after fifteen long minutes, I just couldn't tune him out. I pulled out every trick Dr. Cope had taught me to repel the external, but I'd run out of tools in my toolkit. Time for the direct approach.

"You know, Mike, this is all super fascinating." I smiled. He smiled back. "But I think I need to be alone with nature. You feel me?"

"Oh . . . sure. You need to pee or something?"

 _Ohhh-kay,_ that's not where I was going, but I had to give the guy credit. He'd actually come up with the one activity he'd really have to leave me the hell alone for.

"Sure, you could say that." I gave him another sugar-covered, get-the-fuck-out-of-here smile, and just in case he missed my meaning this time, I added, "Later."

"Want me to hold your pack while you go?" he asked.

"Nah, I need stuff. Y'know?" I patted one of the fat zippered pockets so he knew I meant business. _Tampons and other icky, girly things you don't want to know about . . . and thank you for giving me an alibi I can use on you for at least five more days._

"Got it."

 _Yeah, you do. Now, run along and find some non-menstruating female to irritate._

I veered off the trail just far enough to be convincing and waited until Mike was well out of range before sitting down on the rocky ground and leaning back against my pack. The sun was making a spectacular entrance in the eastern sky, and I lifted my face to the vivid colors that hadn't looked the same through my tiny dorm window.

The fresh mountain air filled my lungs, and I could almost feel the cobwebs blowing away. _Ahhh._ Grown-up camp might even be tolerable if the other inmates could just learn to suffer in silence like me.

I didn't want to completely lose the group, but as a kid, I had played enough hide-and-seek with my brothers to know a count to fifty was in order. I'd just reached "thirty-eight Mississippi" when I heard someone calling my name. _Crap._

"Isabella? Isabella Swan?"

 _Not Mike._

"Yeah, I'm over here."

"Oh, thank God." Heavy boots jogged toward me, and I got my first close-up view of our shy hike leader as he dropped to one knee next to my pack. "Are you okay?"

 _Damn,_ he was gorgeous. Like, _drop dead, but first tear off all your clothes_ gorgeous. Or maybe tear off _his_ clothes gorgeous. Fit and tan and mountain-man scruffy, wild hair poking out all around the edges of his camo-patterned Red Sox cap. Outfitted in neutral tans and greens that melted into the earth, he looked like someone far more comfortable blending in than sticking out—someone like me.

A semicircle of sweat darkened his tan T-shirt, and the rise and fall of slightly labored breathing distracted me to the point where I couldn't look away from that sexy chest. I couldn't tell if he was out of breath from his jog or the anxiety of misplacing one of his hikers in his first half hour in charge. Either way, it was my fault.

His eyes were hidden behind brown-tinted shades, but I could feel him checking me out for visible signs of injury or worse—something he _couldn't_ see that might be even more dangerous out here in the wild. The serious set of his mouth told me he was completely frazzled. "You're not hurt, are you?"

I hopped to my feet and brushed the dirt crumbs off my shorts. "No. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you worry about me . . . or leave the group."

He looked like he wanted to ask more questions, but at the same time, like he really didn't. He rose beside me and twisted his head to peer over his shoulder. "If you're okay, we should probably . . ."

I leaned to one side so I could see around his spectacular body. No sign of Mike. I smiled. "Sure."

Edward seemed to put two and two together. He fidgeted a bit, his focus settling off into the distance. "You, uh . . . wanna walk up front with me?"

Poor kid. I'm sure someone had lectured him about not letting the crazy ones out of his sight, and I'd just soared to the top of that list. He'd now have to worry about me for the next four hours.

I felt for him, and I wasn't about to cause the guy any more trouble. Besides, I doubted even Mike would be bold enough to barge in on the two of us. "Sure."

That earned me a brief, relieved smile. I followed him to the trail, allowing myself a leisurely ogle of the view from the back; clearly, this wasn't Edward's first day in hiking boots. He picked up speed when he hit the trail, and I matched his brisk stride.

The rest of the group was stopped about fifty yards ahead, waiting. _Wonderful._

 _"Shit,"_ I muttered under my breath.

Edward glanced at me and followed my anxious gaze. "Oh, don't worry about them. They're enjoying the scenic vista." He smiled gently at me and waited until I smiled back.

As we reached the clump of hikers, Edward didn't slow down for their questions, didn't offer any sort of excuse for my behavior. He simply hiked along the edge of the group until we were out front and kept right on going. His actions spoke volumes: _none-o'-ya business_. A warm tingle floated down my spine. I didn't know boo about the man who normally led this hike—the other brother, Jasper—but right then and there, I counted my lucky stars for the intuitive man next to me right now.

Step after blessed step without a single word. What a goddamn relief to walk next to someone who didn't feel the need to fill the sky with noise. His silence wasn't just comfortable; it was downright luxurious. I returned the favor.

They say the view never changes if you're not the lead dog. Now that I was out front, I realized exactly how much I hadn't noticed. I couldn't blame Mike's motor mouth for all of it; I'd let myself get lazy and take for granted what was all around me.

Walking next to Edward, that was impossible. Without saying a word, he took in every detail: the full majesty of the sunrise, the screech of a hawk, the unnatural bend of a branch. Through him, I experienced everything I'd been missing.

He continued to check on his flock at regular intervals, waving a hand to the rear of the line and waiting for a return signal. He tallied his sheep with subtle chin bobs, and I found myself holding my breath each time it was my turn to be counted, acknowledging that pulse of electricity when his shaded eyes landed on me and paused, just for that split second, before turning forward.

 _Huh. So much for the girl who hated being seen._

 **/¯\/¯\/¯\/¯\/¯\**

 **Author's Note: Much love to Jeannie Boom for organizing the _Fandom for Mental Health_ and rallying the fandom around such an important issue. You worked tirelessly to bring the compilation to life, raise awareness for mental health issues, and deliver much-needed funds for the important work of some fine organizations. I felt so proud to be part of your team, and I love you! Heartfelt appreciation for Meagan and Packy as well, for MUCH behind-the-scenes work and loving support for the project! **

**To Noel/Gee/OhGee, thank you for pre-reading this story and making sure Edward had the right tools *wink* in his hands! Your warmth, humor, and support are a beautiful trifecta! And my amazingly talented Betti Gefecht, for this beautiful banner, even though Mountainward is not exactly her thang. ;)**

 **To my sweet, wonderful Chayasara, thank you for saving me from myself and always inviting the conversation. You are a gift and a blessing.**

 **Chapter 2 coming soon!**  
 **xxx**

 **~BOH**


	2. Chapter 2

**STILL WATERS**

 **/¯\/¯\/¯\/¯\/¯\**

 **CHAPTER 2**

 ** _SATURDAY, MAY 22  
"Mountain therapy," night 2_**

 ** _Dear claw-foot tub, please forgive me. I might have underestimated you. I guess I didn't realize how long I've been sitting on my ass instead of stretching my legs. Writing papers is exhausting work, but it doesn't actually count for exercise, as every muscle in my body reminded me this afternoon. Thank God for ibuprofen and hot water . . . and lavender bubble bath. I don't think I'll have trouble sleeping tonight._**

 ** _And who knows? Maybe I'll even have a dream about my sweet, kind, quiet mountain man. Mmmm._**

 ** _._**

 ** _._**

 ** _._**

If I did have that dream about Edward, or anyone else for that matter, I certainly couldn't remember it at 5:45 a.m., when my alarm woke me. The worst part? I couldn't even blame the "powers that be" for this morning's rude awakening—this was on me, a self-inflicted wound.

Perhaps I'd been a wee bit overeager when I came off the trail yesterday, but I've never claimed patience as one of my virtues. Probably should've waited and reflected and given my sore muscles a vote before charging into the office to meet Rosalie, who couldn't have been more delighted to add the rising dawn hike onto my schedule for the following day. She'd smiled warmly and said how thrilled she was that the fresh mountain air was already working its magic on me.

Mountain air, my ass.

Wasn't the big fat joke on me when my real reason for being awake was nowhere to be found in the lobby? And it wasn't just that Edward was holding out until 6:29 again so as not to have human interaction; he wasn't coming. I knew it the moment I pushed open the door and heard the swarm of laughter and congratulations. The new daddy was surrounded, a blond head bent over his iPad, jubilantly showing off pictures of his daughter's first twenty-four hours on earth.

He was cute, too, this middle brother, Jasper, but _wow . . ._ could three brothers possibly look any different? Emmett with his dark, wavy hair, muscular build, and a big, booming personality to match; Edward, the shy, green-eyed, bronze-haired baby, a tall tree with a solid trunk and sturdy branches, honed to perfection by the mountains he loved; and the middle son, this chiseled blond, who seemed to invite people in with his gentle smile. Or maybe Jasper was just sleep-deprived.

But he was here, dammit. And so, unfortunately, was I. For a couple of shame-filled seconds, I seriously contemplated sneaking out and playing hooky. And if not for fucking Mike the Mouth, I might have done just that.

"Hey . . . you!" He offered me a wide smile, which I returned, because I suddenly found it wildly amusing I'd never told him my name and he had no idea what to call me.

"I gotta . . ." I pointed toward the breakfast buffet and grunted out "coffee" so he understood why I couldn't possibly stop to chat.

Unfortunately, Mike was no less dense than yesterday, and he trailed after me like a puppy. "So, I looked for you last night at dinner."

 _Seriously?_ I thanked God and the Cullens for room service.

"I was beat." I filled the cup and went about my coffee routine hoping he'd go away if I ignored him.

He didn't.

"What time will you be eating tonight?" he pressed.

I brought the hot coffee to my lips, closed my eyes, and breathed the blessed aroma into my lungs. There was zero chance I would be dining with this guy . . . ever, but I didn't have the energy to start deflecting now. We had hours to go yet.

"Don't tell me you're hungry for dinner already, Mike?"

I turned toward the smooth, silky voice approaching Mike from behind. Jasper clapped his hand on Mike's shoulder and gave him a friendly but meaningful leave-the-girl-alone jiggle.

 _Thank you, kind sir._

"No, I . . ." Mike showed the decency to at least look a little sheepish for hitting on me before sunrise. "Hey, congratulations, Jasper."

"Thanks, man." Now that he was closer, I could see the sparkle in Jasper's clear blue eyes. Tired or not, the middle brother was a people person. I wondered what it must have been like for Edward growing up with two brothers who both seemed to thrive in crowds, whereas he so clearly did not.

"Hi there. I'm Jasper." He extended his hand, and I bobbled my coffee cup to free up my right hand.

Much to my delight, Mike mumbled some excuse and shuffled away. I wasn't sure if it would be cool to thank Jasper for the favor.

"You must be Isabella. Welcome to WMR. I'm sorry I missed your first day."

"It's Bella, and I think becoming a father is a pretty good reason to miss a day of work. Congratulations."

"Thank you. Hmm, coffee . . . I think I'll join you." Jasper cast a furtive glance around the room before settling his cup under the spout. "Please don't tell the green tea; it has a nasty jealous streak."

I had no choice but to giggle while he emptied three sugar packets into his coffee and swirled a big gulp of cream on top.

"Did you get any sleep at all?"

Jasper chuckled, and that easy grin settled on his face again. "Not that I can recall. But I couldn't let my baby brother get too comfortable leading my sunrise hike."

"Something tells me you don't have to worry too much about that."

Jasper's lips had just met the rim of his coffee cup, and he cocked his eyebrows at me before lowering his cup to the saucer. "You don't think so?"

My cheeks heated, and it wasn't from the coffee. "He just seemed like . . ." _Fuck, this is why you don't like talking to people, remember?_ How to do this diplomatically . . . Surely his brothers know the guy is a bit shy. "I mean, he was nice and everything—don't get me wrong. But it seemed like maybe he'd have been happier if . . ."

"If he'd been alone?" Jasper added a wink at the end to let me know he'd been yanking my chain.

I let out a sigh of relief. "Something like that."

"Mmhmm," he agreed. "That's pretty much what I'd expected, too . . . which is why I was so shocked when he told me last night to take my time coming back to work."

Jasper smiled as if he knew something. Was there something to know—other than his little brother was hot?

 _Act nonchalant!_ "Oh yeah?" I lifted my cup practically to my nose, attempting to cover my smile and mad blush.

Jasper pretended to study his coffee, but he was a trained professional, and he saw my response, all right. He drew in a long sip of his coffee and grimaced as if he'd just chugged an entire bottle of cough syrup. "Blech! Now I remember why I stopped drinking coffee."

I tried not to move a muscle while curiosity silently killed me again and again. I was dying to know what else mountain man might have shared with his brother, but I'd already given enough of myself away.

Jasper set down his coffee and scanned the buffet table. "I need something to get this taste out of my mouth." Reaching for a cherry Danish, he slapped his belly and said, "In for a penny, in for a pound," before snarfing the whole thing down in three bites.

The giggles got me again. Here was this obviously fit man, who probably hadn't eaten a Danish in his whole adult life. "I wouldn't worry too much. You'll probably work it off."

"Mmhmm, and so will you. Let's go, Bella . . . you're riding up front with me. My brother made me promise to keep my eye on you."

.

.

.

 _Pleasure reading._ Now, there was a concept. For the first time in five years, there was nothing I _had_ to read for school, and it had simply never occurred to me to bring a book to read just for the joy of it.

Tired, sweaty, and stinky from my hot yoga class, I popped into the cozy, book-lined "library" off the main lobby to grab myself a bubble bath companion. I had big plans for tonight—a long, luxurious soak followed by a fat cheeseburger with fries. Hell, I'd earned it.

I scanned the shelves for some sense of order. Someone had attempted, at some point, to separate fiction from non-fiction and even divide each side into broad category headings using index cards, but Barnes and Noble this was not.

Out of habit, my gaze roamed the shelf labeled "Classics." Jane Austen, Virginia Woolf, Sylvia Plath. _Oh, hello, syllabus._

Wait, what was _this?_

 _Go Set a Watchman?_ Oh, hell no! The paperback was off that classics shelf and in my hand so fast, I hardly registered its heft as I moved toward the unclassified fiction shelves. Lee, Lee . . . where the hell are the Ls?

For that matter, where the hell was any kind of alphabetical filing system? This fiction section was a trainwreck. The "leave a book" rack was understandably disorganized, but the rest of the bookcases had no such excuse. How the hell could anyone hope to find anything in here?

I stared up at the shelves, and all those disorganized books stared back at me. I could practically hear them crying out for organization. _Yes, my friends, you can count on me to restore your dignity._

With no stepladder or chair in sight, I could only reach as high as the second shelf, but I had to start somewhere. I pulled down the entire row of books and splayed them out in an alphabetically correct semicircle, then repeated the process with shelves three and four. Soon, the books were stacked around me five and six high, all meticulously arranged by author's last name, except for the handful I'd set aside as possible vacation reads.

The world slipped away as I reached for the next row and the next . . .

The piles around me grew. Old favorites like _The Corrections_ and _The Time Traveler's Wife,_ books that made me sigh as I thumbed through the pages; new titles I had yet to devour: the new Margaret Atwood book, that series about the two women friends from Naples, and the Alexander Hamilton biography causing so much stir on Broadway—what the heck was that doing in fiction anyway? I forgot myself among the stories until a hushed gasp from across the room startled me out of my book coma.

I whipped my head around toward the door, where stood an equally startled Edward. His wide eyes took in the piles of books scattered all over the floor. He blinked a few times, held up his hands in surrender, and whispered, "Sorry," as he backed out of the library. The door clicked quietly shut behind him.

 _Crap._ I'd scared him. _Again_.

I popped up from the floor and tiptoed through the sea of books, picking my way to the door and yanking it open.

Jeez, mountain man moved quickly! Or maybe this was his step-away-from-the-crazy gait.

"Edward! Hang on!"

He spun around. Aside from the sunglasses pushed up onto the top of his head, he was fresh from the trail. Well, not _fresh_ as in _clean_ , but fresh as in, he hadn't even plunked down his backpack yet. As in, sweat-soaked and rough and dirt-caked from a hard day's work. Mountain manly. _Day-umm._

And I was no cleaner myself, I remembered a beat too late, as Edward's gaze traveled down my yoga tank. My hair had to be a scuzzy pile of black straw by now. My only saving grace was that he couldn't smell me from that far away—probably.

"I'm sorry, Isabella. I can come back another time. It wasn't important."

"Would you call me Bella, please?"

He gave me a small smile. "Sure. Have a good evening, Bella."

"Were you looking for something in particular?" I asked him, pointing my thumb over my shoulder toward the books.

"Oh, uh, not exactly." He hitched his backpack higher onto his shoulder. "I was just gonna browse a bit." _Be still, my heart. Mountain man is a book browser._

"Yeah, me too," I said.

His eyes crinkled at the corners. "That was you browsing, huh?"

"Well, that's how it started . . ."

He burst out laughing first, and I quickly followed. I could feel the hot blush filling out my cheeks, and I probably should've ended the embarrassing exchange. I definitely should've been happy he was standing so far away. But all I could think about was the shiver that rippled down my spine while he was looking at me and how much I didn't want him to stop.

All the better when he folded his arms across his chest and teased me. "Uh-huh. That's what they all say."

"In my defense, the books were out of order."

 _Could he see my nipples punching through my silly little tank? Should I cross my arms? What if he wasn't looking, and that just drew attention to the zone? Would that be a bad thing?_

"Out of order books? Hmm, that does sound serious."

Jesus, was he flirting? The guy who'd barely said three words the whole time on the trail? _Hell,_ I knew _I_ was _._

"Oh, don't worry. I've got it all under control now."

That beautiful smile settled on his lips again. "Yes, I could tell."

"Hey, those books may not be on the shelves, but they are all in alphabetical order by author's last name. Well, all but the top shelf. I was just about to come out and look for a chair or something."

"Oh yeah? Maybe I could help. I do have a few inches on you."

 _Oh, how I wish you did, Edward_. Any of his inches on any part of me would do for starters, and I must have spent a few beats too many enjoying that visual. Now it was Edward's turn to blush.

And then he backpedaled. "I'll go get you a chair."

I didn't want a chair; I wanted his company, craved it, in fact, with a ferocity that nearly knocked the wind out of me. But how to remain cool and not send the young man running for the hills again?

"Oh, I'm sure you can reach everything with an easy stretch." I smiled my most encouraging smile.

He started toward me. My heart rate picked up. Alone in the library with Edward.

With a candlestick. Or was it a dagger? And where was Professor Plum?

Speaking of murderous, I took a quick test-whiff of my armpits. _Whoa_.

"Hey, um . . ." As much as it killed me, I held up my hand.

Ever vigilant, probably as the result of an employee training session or two, Edward stopped dead in his tracks. "Something wrong?"

"I just wanted to warn you . . ."

"Okay?"

"I smell pretty bad."

His smile came quicker this time. "I've been cutting through scrub for the last six hours. I doubt anyone smells worse than I do. You're damn lucky I have a shirt on, or you might have fainted already."

I stared at his chest, and my mouth dropped open while I pondered him shirtless _. Yes, I think you are correct about the fainting._

"So, what are you saying? Our odors will cancel each other out?"

"I'm saying, who cares? Let's go put some books on some shelves."

To prove his conviction, Edward pushed past me and held open the door. Chivalry was far from dead here at WMR, even if it stank a bit. I followed his lead to my work space. He shrugged off his backpack and ran his hand through his hair.

"Wow, this is impressive," he muttered.

"Having second thoughts?" I couldn't blame him. The mess was even bigger than I'd realized. Most of the floor was covered in books.

"Nope, I don't scare that easily. Let's go."

And go we did. Without a single complaint, he reached up and snagged the books off the top shelf, then let me direct traffic until we'd made quick work of the whole lot. The only problem now was that I'd lost my excuse to keep him there.

"Thank you. That would've taken me hours by myself."

"My pleasure. But you know"—he perused the shelves—"I think there's more work to be done here."

I could barely contain my smile. "Oh yeah? What's that?"

"Well, for one thing, it would be helpful if we could arrange these by genre. For instance, I'm a sci-fi reader, and they're all mixed in with . . . romance." His lips curled into an adorable little scowl.

"Oh, that is gross."

"I know, right? So . . . if you have some free time . . . another time . . . we should probably, you know, take another stab at this. For the sake of the other guests."

 _Holy shit, did he just ask me for a date?_ I could not think of anything that thrilled me more than another library date with my mountain man, who right now looked as though he would do anything to pull that string of words back inside his mouth.

I gave him the most encouraging smile I could arrange on my face and answered, "I'll see if I can clear some time on my busy schedule."

With that major hurdle out of the way, he nodded slightly and let out a relieved breath. "So, what kind of book were _you_ browsing for when I so rudely interrupted you?"

"Something light . . . you know, bathtub reading?"

He quickly averted his gaze. "I don't know that genre. I'm more of a shower guy."

 _Gee, thanks for the imagery._ "You read in the shower? That is impressive."

In profile, I could see him biting the inside of his cheek. "Speaking of which . . ." He pulled a Robert Heinlein off the shelf, tucked it inside the outer pocket of his backpack, and lifted the bag onto his shoulder. "I sure hope this one's waterproof."

"Yeah, good luck with that."

We were saying the awkward, long goodbye, but I loved that he was lingering, too.

"I hope Jas took good care of you this morning. I mean, not that you needed babysitting or anything, just . . ." He shook his head.

"Yes, Mike was a pain in the ass— _again_ —and Jasper was great. Thank you for giving him the heads up."

"Sure thing. He'll keep an eye out for you the rest of the week."

"Yeah, I think I'm done with the sunrise hikes."

"Oh?" Edward frowned as if I'd just insulted him personally. "That's too bad."

"I know. I mean, the mountains are spectacular, and who can argue with a great sunrise, but I'm really not much of a group person."

He chuffed. "Nor am I."

He was doing just dandy one-on-one, though. Another reflection best kept to myself. "Speaking of sunrises, is there a decent trail you can recommend for me to take on my own tomorrow?"

"Absolutely not," he answered sternly. "That wouldn't be safe."

"Ah, okay. No big deal, then. I can just walk on the treadmill and gaze out over the vista."

His whole upper body crumpled with pain, as if I'd shoved a knife into his belly and twisted the handle. "The treadmill? We actually have treadmills here? That's horrible."

"It's not so horrible. I do it all the time at school."

"This isn't school; it's a mountain resort. And it's spring!" He looked away for a few seconds until he had his scorn under control. "Hey, what if you . . . I don't suppose you'd wanna . . . nah, it's a terrible idea."

 _Color me intrigued._ "What would I not want to do?"

"Never mind. You'd be bored out of your mind."

"Doing . . .?"

He fought with himself for a few tortured moments before giving in. "I'm clearing this trail over at Franklin Notch tomorrow. I can't promise you a 'bountiful brunch buffet'"—he air-quoted—"but I can make you the best turkey and Swiss sandwich in New England, and I can guarantee you won't have to deal with any unwanted attention. Just you, me, and the mountain. We don't even have to talk. Come with me?"

"No talking _all day_?" That sounded extreme, especially since I'd finally loosened him up.

Cue that gorgeous smile again. _"_ Whatever makes you happy, Bella."

This made me very, very happy. "Just tell me when and where."

* * *

 **Sigh. It's been so lovely to hear from you guys again! Thanks for keeping me on your alert list and stopping by to say hello! There really is nothing quite like posting a new E/B story. MWAH! Your reviews are speeding up my posting schedule, just so you know. *wink* XXX ~BOH**


	3. Chapter 3

**STILL WATERS**

 **/¯\/¯\/¯\/¯\/¯\**

 **CHAPTER 3**

 ** _SUNDAY, MAY 23  
"Mountain therapy," night 3_**

 ** _I know I'm supposed to have some deep feelings to journal about. After all, I've been here two full days, away from the pressures of school, out in the fresh air, no papers to write, nobody standing over me, cracking the whip. A short reprieve on worrying about my employment situation come September. That all feels awesome and rejuvenating and YAY FOR THE MOUNTAINS._**

 ** _But truth be told, Dr. Cope, right now, my most powerful feelings are all about mountain man: lust, anticipation, excitement, and something very warm and fuzzy._**

.

.

.

I bolted out of bed at 5:58, two minutes before my alarm. Didn't need coffee, didn't need more sleep.

 _Just you, me, and the mountain._

Yeah, it would be awkward seeing Edward first thing this morning after those dreams I just had. So many dreams: hot kisses, crazed groping, frantic peeling away of clothes and—

Time to push all that away because there he was, waiting for me at the trail head with his sunglasses pushed into his hair, still wet at the tips from his shower, and a look of . . . was that apprehension on his face?

My own smile died on impact. "Hey, everything okay?"

"I think so," he said. "I, um . . . didn't really think this through."

"Which part? Because I'm flexible on the lunch meat."

His smile appeared for a brief moment before running away again. "I don't really have the authority or whatever to take guests out on an unmarked trail or . . ."—he looked away and fidgeted with the clip of the backpack snapped at his waist—"or alone."

 _Wow, that went from sixty to zero awfully quickly._

Fear tore through me. Was this guy some kind of sex offender? He sure didn't seem the type, but how the hell would I know?

 _No way._ There was no way Emmett and Rosalie would have allowed a sex offender on the grounds, let alone to lead a group of hikers through the mountains. _Chill your bones, girl_.

"Does that mean I'm uninvited now?"

"No! You're still invited, and I hope you'll come, but they kind of made me tell you all that first."

He still looked like he might throw up any second.

"Edward, is there something I need to know about you? Are you sketchy or something?"

At that, he laughed, and the tension seemed to spill out of him. "No, Bella. I'm probably the least sketchy person you've ever met. Not only would I never, _ever_ hurt you, I am qualified to handle just about any emergency situation we could encounter on the mountain, from attack by wild animals to first aid and long-term survival."

"In that case, I think I'm good to take a day hike with you. You kind of scared me there for a second."

"I'm sorry. My brother is kind of a stickler—well, actually, Rosalie is the stickler but my brother values his . . . jewels. _Anyway,_ I'm not one of their licensed therapists, so that makes me a bit of a wildcard, and I've only been here two weeks. This is all pretty new, and—"

"Maybe we should walk and talk?" I tipped my chin toward the trail, and he shot me a very grateful smile.

"Right. Or maybe I should shut the hell up like I promised you?" He tossed off a chuckle.

We fell into step together, and I gave his side a little bump with my elbow. "I kind of really like talking to you."

He faced forward, but I could see the end of his smile as it stretched across his cheek. "I kind of really like talking to you too, Bella."

Despite our major declarations, we both opted for silence for the next several minutes, and that worked, too. But instead of enjoying Mother Nature, my thoughts were churning with curiosity about the man next to me, and since he didn't seem to mind talking, I decided to probe a bit.

"So, how is it that you're qualified to protect me from wild animal attacks?"

"I didn't mean that to sound so arrogant—"

"It didn't."

He nodded before answering. "I grew up in the mountains. As much as I've tried leaving for . . . higher pursuits, I guess . . . I kind of suck at staying inside four walls."

I couldn't help but notice the irony. "I think those so-called 'higher pursuits' have driven me right here to your mountains."

"Well, yeah, but . . ." He shot me a look I couldn't read, then shook his head. "Nah, forget it."

"What?"

He did that thing I was getting used to with him—fighting an internal battle over how much to say out loud. I was starting to think it would be a good idea to get him wasted one night so he'd shed some of his inhibitions, but that surely was not going to happen out here on the trail. Not while he had to be all responsible for my survival.

"C'mon, Edward, just say it."

"I've read your file. I'm sorry, I had to. I led that hike the first day, so I had to be made aware of . . ."

"My issues?"

He shrugged. "Your situation. You didn't just attend a few college-level classes; you earned your master's. You and I are basically the same age, and you're, like, light years ahead of me."

 _Oh._ "I guess I don't really see it that way. I mean, yeah, I stayed in school, but whatever. I just followed my passion."

"Heh. My passion doesn't really encompass test-taking or sitting behind a desk. Sometimes, I wish it did."

"So, yours happens to be the great outdoors. There's no hierarchy or judgment about what's better."

"You want to tell my parents that?"

"Sure. What's their phone number?"

Edward turned his head abruptly, eyebrows raised and ready to talk me out of it until he realized I was kidding. "Funny."

"Your folks chose this place to raise their family. They don't see that the classroom isn't where you shine?"

"They want me to have a good education and every opportunity and blah, blah, blah. They were all supportive of my gap year after high school, but when that turned into an admissions deferral and then a semester off, and then another gap year . . . it hasn't been an easy path for any of us."

He sounded so very lost, it hurt my heart. "I'm sorry. That sounds painful."

His lips curled into a smile, and soon he was full-on laughing.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"I'm sorry. It just struck me as funny all of a sudden . . . You came up here to sort things out, and here I am vomiting up my life story all over you. I'm not really sure how that just happened, especially since I'm not what you'd call a talker."

"Well, I can't be sure because I've pretty much spent the last five years immersed in relationships with fictional characters, but if memory serves, I believe that's called friendship."

He gazed out at the horizon, where he seemed to search for his big answers. Before turning to face me again, he lowered his sunglasses onto his face. I couldn't tell if he was shielding his eyes from the sun or from my seeing something he didn't mean to reveal. Maybe he didn't know either.

"Friendship. Huh . . . it's been a while for me, too, Bella."

Tears burned behind my eyes, and I pulled on my sunglasses as well. Edward was finished sharing, and we walked on in a silence heavy with reflection.

Being with Edward was both comfortable and profoundly agitating. Our hike had just begun, and I was already mourning the end of the trail.

.

.

.

The sun rose in spectacular fashion. Side by side, we took in its majesty as we hiked along in reverent silence. About an hour in, we came to the end of the cleared path.

"Ahh, time for work," he proclaimed sadly. "Sorry, here comes the boring part."

I dug into my pack and pulled out the book I'd chosen last night. "I'm good for hours. Don't worry about me."

He chuffed. "I _am_ worried about you. This is slow-going, tedious work. You need to promise you'll tell me if you're dying of boredom or hunger or . . . you need to use the, er, facilities."

"Facilities? You have facilities?" I was really starting to enjoy teasing him. He had the most adorable blush, something about the way his pink cheeks blended into his bronze-streaked hair just . . . _yum_.

"Not exactly. I have a roll of toilet paper. But please don't go off on your own without telling me. I'll help you scout out a spot."

He was getting all protective again, and it was cute and all, but I'd been going to the bathroom for at least twenty years on my own now. "Thanks, but I'm pretty sure I can find a place to pee without your help."

Shifting into mountain man mode, he narrowed his eyes and delivered his lecture. "There are over one hundred species of thorny bushes and poisonous leaves you _really_ don't want to brush up against your . . . bare skin." He was bright red now, poor guy.

"All right, all right. Thanks."

Much relieved to have gotten that conversation out of the way, he changed the subject. "Let's get you back a safe margin from the work zone."

"Okay, boss. I'm going."

I followed his instructions, but that didn't stop me from watching. He untied the bandana hanging off his pack and fastened it around his head. Things were about to get sweaty. I wanted to tell him he didn't need to keep his shirt on for my sake, but I decided to keep that thought to myself.

He unzipped a huge canvas bag I hadn't noticed at the edge of the trail and pulled out some heavy-duty pruning tools I couldn't have used if my life depended on it. And then he began wielding them in earnest like the pro he apparently was.

 _Be still, my heart._ Captain Lumberjack was here to save the day!

I felt like a bum, sitting by and pretending to read while he conquered the wilderness. His shirt darkened with sweat; his grunts grew louder as he thrashed at the unruly scrub. With every swing of his hatchet, he slashed away a little bit more of the underbrush and won a bigger piece of my heart.

He worked for long periods without stopping. He'd clear a chunk of new trail, drag his bag of tools along, and wave me closer. It was backbreaking work with little apparent reward, but he never complained or even appeared the slightest bit grumpy.

The only time we chatted was the occasional water break. And even then, he was only concerned about my needs. He peppered me with questions: "Need anything? Bored yet? When did you last reapply your sunscreen? Drinking enough water? Enjoying your book?"

He slashed away for hours, and I think he would've kept right on going if I hadn't told him I was hungry for lunch.

.

.

.

"I know this is totally cheesy, but Rose insisted." Edward's cheeks were as bright as the red-checkered tablecloth he was busy fluffing over the rocky ground.

"So you're saying you don't normally go to this kind of trouble when you're alone out here?"

"Sometimes, when I'm feeling wildly indulgent, I'll find myself a boulder to sit on."

Despite his embarrassment, he seemed to be getting into the whole picnic concept, kneeling beside me and handing me a sandwich and chips and fruity water out of his pack. He watched with great anticipation as I took my first bite of the sandwich.

"So?"

"Hmm." I teased him as long as I could hold out, which wasn't very long at all. "I would have to say this is, indeed, the best turkey and Swiss I have ever eaten. What's your secret?"

"Even if I told you every ingredient right down to the teaspoon of honey mustard, it would never taste as good anywhere else."

With Edward sitting next to me on the hard ground, legs kicked out in front of him, sun baking us in its warmth, I couldn't actually imagine anywhere on earth any morsel of food would taste as good. He took another bite of his sandwich and closed his eyes while he chewed. It was impossible to look away from the blissful expression on his face. It was also impossible not to tease him about it.

"Shouldn't you keep your eyes open in case of a snake ambush or something?"

He lowered his gaze and made a quick sweep around the area. "There's only one type of venomous snake up here, and they're almost definitely still hibernating for another couple of weeks."

" _Almost definitely_?" And here, I thought I'd been joking. "Wait, what about the _non_ venomous ones? They don't sleep?" I scooted closer to Edward, and he laughed.

"Snakes are the least of your worries up here."

"Is that right? And what is the most of my worries?"

"Black bears, definitely. And moose are a very close second."

"Wonderful."

He smiled that easy, confident, one-with-nature smile that looked so damn good on him. "Don't worry, Bella. I'll protect you."

As unenlightened as my response might have been, I could not deny my swoon for the whole chest-beating Tarzan thing he had going on. _Sue me._ Not that I was about to let Edward see it.

"Oh yeah? Who's protecting _you_? You don't have a gun in that backpack, do you?"

"God, no. I could never shoot a living creature. It's all about respecting the animals."

"Respect the animal while he's tearing you limb from limb?"

"No, respect the animal so it doesn't come to that." He finished the last bite of his sandwich and brushed off his hands on his shorts, which was amusing considering how dirty his shorts were. "Say a bear appears over there on that crest. What do you do?"

"That depends . . . how fast can you run?"

He gave me his stern expression again. It was hot. "Nowhere near as quick as a bear but fast enough to outrun you. Try again."

"Okay, let's see . . . I could throw him the rest of my sandwich and—"

"A fed bear is a dead bear. You can't do that. Giving him human food would ultimately lead to his demise. Next?"

"Isn't his demise better than mine?" Now, I was just fishing.

Edward must have caught on to my ridiculous ploy. His eyes were smiling, but his mouth wouldn't give in. "He's not going to keel over after the first bite. It's a subtle process. He starts looking for human food, turns to a life of crime, yada, yada."

I couldn't decide which was sexier, serious mountain man or playful Edward. Either or both worked for me.

"Okay, I've got it."

His eyebrows perked up. Adorably. "Yes?"

"I climb the nearest tree."

"That is your worst idea yet. Bears, especially black bears, are champion tree climbers. He would follow you up there and throw you to the ground."

"Jeez, that sounds pretty harsh."

"No, Bella, harsh is what he does to you after that. You finished with your lunch?"

I popped the last bite of my sandwich into my mouth. He probably needed to hit the trail again. "Yep."

He rose onto his knees. "Okay, roll over onto your stomach."

"What?"

Hands on his hips now, he repeated his command. A bit menacing, but I was game.

I flopped gingerly onto my full belly and waited for his next move. He placed his palm on my back. His knees bumped up against my side.

"Put your hands behind your neck, elbows wide . . . yep, just like that."

My heart was pounding into the plastic plaid sheet separating my chest from the earth. Edward leaned over so his voice was near my ear.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but spread your feet apart like you're doing a jumping jack."

I tried to crane my neck around to see his face, but his hand locked me firmly in place. "Sorry, what's the _right_ way to take that?"

He let go with a soft pat between my shoulder blades and a gentle chuckle. "That's what you do if you encounter a bear."

"So I can get up now?"

His knee hit the turf in front of my face, along with a sturdy, outstretched hand. "I think that's probably a good idea."

.

.

.

Edward was careful to have me back well before sunset. We hadn't talked much on the hike back; he'd been pretty beat after a full day of physical labor. I'd worked up quite a sweat, too. Watching mountain man in his natural habitat took a lot out of me.

I thanked him for lunch and bringing me back alive and sharing his mountain with me. He blushed and shook his head and said he was glad I had a nice time. It was all kinds of almost-first-date awkward but I wouldn't have traded it for anything.

* * *

 **Author's Note: HEY! Hi! I see some new readers out there! *waves* Welcome, welcome, and thank you to all of you who have popped in to say you're here. If any of you new kids are interested, I do post occasional teasers and hot mountain men pics in my Facebook group- look me up at Born's Pumpkin Patch!**

 **I have two big recs to thank for the new foot traffic: Nicffwhisperer over at The Lemonade Stand (a longtime supporter, thank you!) and Tarbecca, who rec'd it over at the Fic Dive at ADF (A Different Forest).**

 **It seems I'm not alone in my little *quirk* about organizing books. Heh. Shocking. And for those of you who mentioned the dynamic of the three brothers, I've always loved what SM gave us to play with in terms of those boys and their different personalities, and always loved the unique bromance (which, ahem, sometimes turns into romance but NOT when they're brothers!). Confession time- THIS story, this mountain man, was my very first vision of Edward, but I guess the story wasn't ready to come out. Instead, I ended up writing a certain family resort on an island off the Pacific coast, similar Emmett and Jasper, very different Edward. You might recall that story... "The Cliffs"? Anyone? LOL. So here we are, 6 years later, and mountain man has burst forth once again demanding his story to be told. Who knew?**

 **Many, many thanks for all the kind reviews and insightful comments that get me thinking...and writing. You guys really are the best. XXX ~BOH**


	4. Chapter 4

**STILL WATERS**

 **/¯\/¯\/¯\/¯\/¯\**

 **CHAPTER 4**

 ** _MONDAY, MAY 24  
"Mountain therapy," night 4_**

 ** _Either my body is acclimating to all this hiking or my lavender bubble bath is a miracle, but I no longer feel more than the comfortable burn that lets you know you've awakened muscles that have gone far too long without exercise. And that would include my heart._**

 ** _I'm falling for him._**

 ** _He's spent every second we're together protecting me from harm, as if HE's not the most dangerous thing to ever happen to me._**

 ** _I should hold out. It's only three more days, three more dream-filled nights, and then I'll never see him again. It's only going to get worse, harder to leave him if we let things get out of hand—assuming he wants me the way I want him._**

 ** _Friendship, I'd told him. Yeah, that works._**

 ** _I can do this. Starting tomorrow. No alarms, no private hikes, no watching mountain man chop down trees…sigh. I'll meditate or something. I'll find the damn treadmill. It'll be better this way._**

 ** _It won't hurt so much when I have to leave his world and get back to mine._**

.

.

.

Sleeping in—even till 7:30—would have been lovely, but it seemed I was now incapable of staying asleep past six. At the first hint of morning, my senses were fully aroused—or maybe that arousal was left over from my Edward-inspired dreams.

I could have caught the Early Risers Yoga class on the side lawn, but my motivation seemed to have taken the first bus down the mountain. As strong and invigorated as I felt last night, I was weak and unmotivated this morning. I had a hangover from something I didn't do. Some _one_ I didn't do.

 _You're doing the right thing._

Then why did a nagging, _"You're wasting precious time you could be spending with him,"_ have its nasty way with me? I waffled back and forth between the two until I exhausted myself.

Waffles. Now, there was an idea.

I could picture exactly where Edward was right now. I could see the place we stopped for lunch, where he rolled me over on the cloth and touched me, but not really. Where he lifted the hem of his T-shirt to wipe the sweat off his nose. I could picture him hacking away at the low-lying limbs and tossing away annihilated branches. I could see him scoping out a rock-stoop and eating his perfect turkey sandwich and closing his eyes while he tipped his face to feel the sun on his cheeks.

 _It won't be so difficult when I'm away from these damn mountains_. The need will dissolve somehow, like the fake sugar I swirled around my coffee cup at breakfast. Oh yes, I sat down to eat an actual meal with actual food in actual public. Life goes on . . . let's do this. Wasn't that why I came here in the first place? Not to get sidetracked by a man—no matter how sweet and goodness-filled he was. I just made him sound like a damn Oreo. He was some goddamn gorgeous Oreo.

Sigh . . . maybe meditation.

.

.

.

Meditation was a joke. What was I concentrating on? What else? _Edward_. How was that productive? I left the session more restless than when I'd gone in.

The treadmill was a bit more help, especially when I worked into a light jog. My stamina was still fairly pathetic for someone my age in excellent health, and I had to tone down the incline and speed of the pre-programmed course. The treadmill judged me, but at least I was trying.

I got a sandwich to go from the deli counter in the coffee shop—turkey and Swiss—and took it back to my room. I cracked open the chick lit and plunked down in my Adirondack chair on the patio. _This could be pleasant_. I brought the sandwich to my lips—same turkey, same cheese, same honey mustard as yesterday—but as Edward had warned, it lacked that secret sauce, the Edwardness. Sorry, guy, you've gone from being a cookie to a special sauce.

I set the sub-par sandwich down beside my chair and pretended to focus on the words on the page until my eyes finally gave up the fight. I woke up three hours later to the bleating of the hotel phone.

Disoriented and sunburned, I stumbled inside and picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Hi, Isabella. It's me . . . Mike. Remember me?"

"Uh-huh."

"I haven't seen you around the last couple of days, but I wondered if you wanted to grab dinner with me tonight?"

 _Nope, nope, nope._ "Mike, I'm not really feel—"

"Before you say no . . ." he started, laughing nervously into the phone. "Look, I know I can come on kind of strong at first. I try too hard. That's kind of my . . . thing. Anyway, I just wanted to have a nice meal with a nice person, and I promise I won't, well, I'll try not to scare you away this time."

He let out a huge sigh, and so did I. Maybe Mike would take my mind off you-know-who for a little bit. It was just dinner, down the hall, and I hadn't eaten anything since the Belgian waffles twelve hours ago . . . and that one bite of turkey sandwich. I didn't come here to stay holed up alone in this room. I could do this.

"Sure, Mike. I can be dressed in fifteen?"

.

.

.

Mike was only mildly annoying through the appetizer course, and by the time our entrees arrived, I'd downed at least my half of the bottle of pinot grigio, so the tuning out was working much better. Funny how certain coping devices work better when drunk.

My wine glass was full again, and then it was empty. Full again, then empty. I begged off dessert, barely able to hold my head up with the combined effects of sun, alcohol, and the effort of repelling Mike's droning.

When I stood up from the table, the ground shifted just enough that Mike's helpful arm was appreciated, and when he insisted on walking me down the hall to my room, I didn't fight him off. Either he was very good at holding me up or I was more coordinated than I thought. I managed to put one foot in front of the other and exit the dining room without falling on my face. _Go, me._

Mike tightened his grip with an arm around my waist. I floated more than walked _. Left, right, concentrate, Bella!_ Bed wasn't far off, blessed sleep . . . I'd have to skip my journaling tonight, but I'd catch up first thing in the morning.

"Bella?"

Oh. Shit. That damn voice. I'd done such a good job avoiding it and _him_ all day.

"Bella!"

I whipped my head around a bit too fast. The room slanted. "Oh, hey, Edward. What are you doing here?"

It was confusing. Why was Edward standing in the hallway at this time of night, all cleaned up in a yummy pair of dark jeans and a pale blue T-shirt? He wasn't trying to fade into the background for some reason I couldn't quite grasp. And he was standing in the doorway to the library.

"I was just . . . are you okay?" He moved closer. _Shit_.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just got a bit too much sun today. You remember Mike, right?"

"Of course. Hey, Mike." Edward was shaking Mike's hand, standing too close to us. "Wow, you did get a lot of sun. Jas didn't let you do that to yourself, did he? I'll read him the riot act!"

"Nuh, nuh, nuh, no. It was all my fault. I fell asleep reading. It's a reading-related injury."

That sounded funny in my head but Edward wasn't smiling.

"Hey, Mike, how about if I walk Bella back to her room?" Edward took my other elbow. Strong, hard, stubborn. Clean. I wondered if he'd read in the shower tonight.

"That's okay, man. I've got this handled," Mike said.

 _Handled._ I started to giggle. I felt like taffy being pulled in two different directions.

"Um, I can probably walk to my room all by myself. It's only like . . . down that hall a mile."

My knees buckled. Edward tugged me into his side and lifted my arm around his shoulders. I thought I heard him swear under his breath, but that didn't match with my Edward. He stopped short and stepped in front of me, angling both our bodies around to face Mike.

Uh oh. Edward had his scary mountain man face on. I felt kind of bad for Mike.

"I'll take care of her. Thank you very much, Mike. Good night." Angry, protective, dangerous.

I wanted to warn Mike about what he was supposed to do if he met up with a bear in the woods. I pictured Mike, flattened to the ground, legs splayed, hands clasped at his neck. I giggled; that shit was funny.

Mike stared at Edward. Edward glared back at him. Mike looked at me. "Are you gonna be okay if I leave, Isabella?"

Edward rolled his eyes. "Her name is Bella, and she is gonna be just fine."

Now it was Mike's turn to go all angry bear. "I'm asking the lady. Isab— _Bella_ , do you feel safe with this guy?"

That was a joke, right? I'd never felt safer with anyone—or more in trouble. "It's okay, Mike. Edward would never, ever hurt me. Right, Edward?"

Edward broke his stare-down with Mike and turned his beautiful, tense, bright green eyes on me. They softened instantly. "Of course I wouldn't."

I tried to smile at Mike, but he had turned rabid. Tiny spit bubbles gathered at the corners of the meanest sneer I'd ever seen.

"I sure hope you enjoyed working here, pal. She's all yours." He dropped my arm and stormed off.

Edward tightened his grip. "C'mon, Bella. Let's get you to your room."

"Oh, shit. I think I just got you in trouble."

"Don't worry about him. What room are you in?"

I floated again, my feet barely touching the floor. "I'm not sure."

"Okay, hold on, let me get your key. Here it is, number twelve. You're right down here . . . hang on while I . . ."

The door opened. There was my bed.

"I am sooooo tired." My bed was so soft. I sat down to rest, just for a second. I needed to brush my teeth and change out of my dress and Edward went into the bathroom to get me a glass of water and said he'd be right back.

.

.

.

The blankets were so heavy, so, so hot. My body felt like fire, but I was shivering all over. My sheets were soaked. And I felt so, so sick.

Where the hell was I? School? Not school. School was over. No more papers.

Mountains. Edward. Mike. Wine. Ugh, so much wine! _Oh shit!_

I kicked off the sheets and dashed for the toilet. Dizzy . . . so, so dizzy.

"I've got you." Strong arms wrapped around me, guided me, bent me over the toilet. _Edward_. Gathered my hair out of my eyes, off my neck.

A blast of hot vomit rushed up my stomach and burst out of my mouth. Ugh, last night's cod in big, bitter, undigested chunks. So gross. I closed my eyes. More spinning.

I barely had time to breathe before the next batch pumped up and out of me, and another and another. I prayed for mercy; I prayed for death. Every last drop inside my stomach spilled into the bowl. I was so cold, shivering, soaked in a cold sweat all over my body. My dress. Shit, I was still wearing my stupid sundress.

"Here." Tissues pressed into my hand. A cool washcloth draped across the nape of my neck. Soothing words. "Feel any better?"

"A little." I couldn't look at him. This was mortifying.

"Think you could sip a little water? You're really dehydrated."

He pressed the glass into my hand. I tried.

"How's your head?"

"Not good. Hurts behind my eyes."

"Here, Bella. Take this. I promise it'll help." He opened his hand and presented two round orange pills. "It's Advil."

I gave up on the ostrich act. He'd already seen everything . . . and more. "I trust you." I even managed a tiny smile for him. "Besides, it's too late to Rufee me."

He chuckled as I took the pills off his hand. "It's not really my style, anyway."

I choked down enough water to swallow the pills, and he took the glass away. I flopped down onto my ass and leaned my forehead on the cool porcelain. It was easier than looking at him.

"This isn't exactly my style either. I'm kind of mortified."

"It happens. Too much sun, not enough water, and an asshole getting you wasted so he could take advantage of you. I'm just glad I happened to be standing there. No telling what Mike might've done."

I smiled. "I wasn't _that_ drunk."

"Could've fooled me." I couldn't tell if he was angry, disappointed, or just sad.

"I think I might've gotten you in big trouble. Do you think he might really get you fired?"

"For taking care of you? No. But even if I did get fired, I'd do it again in a heartbeat. There was no way I was leaving you with him. I was prepared to get physical."

My gaze traveled across the tile floor to where he was leaning back on his hands, watching me with grave concern.

"You know, you can be awfully scary, mountain man."

His face lost its tension. "That's funny. I'm terrified of _you_."

"Me? What'd I do?"

He shook his head. "You know what? It's the middle of the night, and you're still drunk, and we are not having this conversation right now. Can I help you get back to bed?"

"I thought you weren't that kinda guy."

"Here," he said, lifting me gently and helping me to the sink. "Why don't you freshen up? Are you okay if I let go?"

Well, there was the whole conundrum, wasn't it? But as he'd said, now was not the time to solve it. "Sure. Can you grab me a T-shirt from the second drawer? This dress is really disgusting."

As I reached for my toothbrush, I happened to catch his blush in the mirror. "What?" I asked.

"Um, you wouldn't happen to have any sleep pants in there, would you?"

"Nope. I usually don't wear anything at all to bed."

"Right." He ran his fingers through his hair as he turned to go. Poor Edward.

A few minutes later, he returned with my Harvard T-shirt. "It was the longest one I could find."

"Thanks." I tried to smile, but my stomach had started churning again, and I was on borrowed time.

Concern furrowed his brow again. "I don't feel comfortable leaving you alone. I'm afraid you're not quite . . . finished."

"Thank you."

He nodded, surprised or maybe just relieved I hadn't fought him on staying. "Take your time. I'll just be out there . . ." Blush.

I returned to the bedroom to find his large frame slumped down in the little side chair by the window, his long legs stretched way out in front of him. His gaze was fixed outside, allowing what remained of my dignity and modesty as I crawled back under the sheets.

"That looks pretty uncomfortable," I said. "Are you gonna stay like that all night?"

"It's fine."

"Did you sleep at all?"

"A little. You slept for about twenty minutes before you got sick."

"Let's try for a little more this time."

"Deal."

.

.

.

The next few hours were a terrible blur of nightmares and nausea and retching. By 3 a.m., I was down to the dry heaves. My stomach muscles were cramped and sore on top of the queasiness. I was completely exhausted, and, from the looks of him so was Edward. I was fairly certain this level of customer care wouldn't be found in the employee manual.

As I dragged myself back into bed for what I fervently hoped would be my last time tonight, I tried to convince Edward it was okay to leave me, but mountain man wouldn't budge. And I guess if I were honest with myself, I'd admit I wasn't trying all that hard to make him go.

"Look, I know I'm not exactly a ray of sunshine—"

He regarded me with a smile so kind, I nearly wept. "I think you're doing great."

"Come on, Edward. This room smells like the bathroom at Fenway Park . . . after the seventh inning stretch . . . when the Yankees are in town! Ugh, I just threw up in my mouth again."

Edward chuckled softly. "I think I did, too."

"What I'm trying to say is, I'd certainly understand if you didn't want to get too close to me, but if you're going to be stubborn about staying, maybe you should lie down on the bed and try to get a little sleep before you have to get up and operate heavy machinery. I stink, but at least I'm not contagious."

His gaze shifted from me to the chair that had tortured him all night, and he surrendered. "Yeah, okay."

He kicked off his boots and lay down on top of the covers with all his clothes on. He folded his arms over his chest like a corpse. Within seconds, he was asleep.

Despite how shitty I still felt, his devotion tugged at my heartstrings in a way I couldn't ignore, no matter how hard I tried.

"G'night, mountain man," I whispered in the dark.

"Hmm," he hummed back between gentle, rhythmic snores. As if his body were answering mine even on a subconscious level. As if maybe he couldn't help his response any more than I could.

* * *

 **A/N:** I hope nobody was eating while reading that scene! Especially not cod, or the New England version- SCROD. Anyway, enough about Bella's chunk-blowing. NOW what's gonna happen to Mountain Man? Is Motormouth Mike gonna get him fired? How do you think Bella's plan of staying away from Edward is going so far? Heh. And by the way, what was Edward doing, standing there all fresh and blue in the hallway, huh?

Hey, thanks for the sweet notes about _The Cliffs_ from some of my diehards! *gushes warm fuzzies from chest cavity* It's been fun seeing many new faces on Facebook too! Thanks for joining in the craziness. If you're game for something REALLY nuts, you might want to head over the **ThreeHotPotatoes** account here and check out our latest election-themed story, _Rightfully Qualified_. For those of you who are blissfully unaware of the trainwreck known as 3hp, it's my 3-way collab with **Shell Taylor (shellshock81)** and **Kate Best (kitkat cullen)**. What we do is decide on a theme up front, then take turns writing 100-word drabble chapters without any further conversation about plot, and pass along the 'hot potato' story to the next writer. It's most fun (for us) when we twist up the story and give the next potato a rough cliffie to deal with, and my two potato partners are notorious for doing just that. (I'm the angel in the group.) Warning: the stories are crackfic of the worst variety. Enter at your own risk. ;)

MUCH LOVE to all of you for your Mountain Man love and kind words about this Bella, too. For my fellow Jews out there, L'shana Tova Tikatevu! MWAH! **XXX ~BOH**


	5. Chapter 5

**STILL WATERS**

 **/¯\/¯\/¯\/¯\/¯\**

 **CHAPTER 5**

 ** _ **WEDNESDAY** , MAY 26  
"Mountain therapy," day 6_**

 ** _Well, that was interesting._**

 ** _Now I have a whole new list of reasons to avoid Edward. Oreoward. Edworeo._**

 ** _Lying low today. Maybe I'll reread a classic, spend time with an old book friend or two. Safer that way. Surely I can stay out of trouble for one last day. Then tomorrow morning, I pack up my Mini—again—and head back to civilization and stress and looking for a "serious" job._**

.

.

.

Edward was gone when I woke up.

I could only imagine what he must think of me now. _Foolish girl. Too much sun, too much wine_.

8:37 a.m. My best effort yet. Seems I'd found the secret to sleeping in: not sleeping all night. Not my healthiest discovery. The night from hell had finally ended, and I had survived. I'd even managed to fortify myself for the day ahead with fluid and ibuprofen, which was the only reason I was able to move without the world spinning out from under my feet.

 _Thanks to Edward_.

I kicked off the blankets and fluffed up the soggy sheets. This bed, this _room,_ needed a major airing out. I opened a window on the courtyard side and propped open the patio door to the mountains. A merciful cross-breeze swept through, fluttering the curtains and bringing with it the promise of renewal.

Edward would be in full-on thrashing mode by now. I pictured him hacking away with his scythe, falling over in an exhausted heap for lack of sleep. _Stop picturing Edward._

Right.

Coffee and greasy food were in order. First, a shower.

I pushed back the curtain and reached in to turn on the hot water. There, folded neatly over the faucet, was the washcloth he'd pressed against my neck, held to my forehead. Refreshed with cool water from the sink more times than I could count. Each time without comment or complaint.

I pictured him squeezing out the washcloth one last time and tactfully draping it here. Come to think of it, everything was in its place this morning, all the evidence erased. The drinking glass neatly set by the sink. The towel he'd placed on the floor so I'd have a soft place to kneel . . . folded and hung on its rack. All those tissues he'd handed me and taken back . . . after I'd . . . _ugh_.

The guy was a saint or something.

 _Yeah, definitely the kind you want to stay away from. Good job there._

I stepped under the hot stream. The needles of water hit my sunburned skin like a million tiny spears. I washed and rinsed my hair as quickly as I could and dabbed my skin dry with a towel that felt like sandpaper. I pulled my hair through a ponytail holder and threw on some shorts and a tank, slid my toes into my flip-flops, and set out down the hall to breakfast.

A door slammed somewhere behind me, and a rough voice called out, "Well, will you look what the mountain lion dragged in?"

Mike, the fucking motor mouth. Fuck. I spun around as his footsteps approached. I'd completely put Mike and his ugly threats out of my mind, but now that I caught sight of him, the fear was back in full force.

He wasn't dressed for hiking, and he sure as hell wasn't dressed for quiet meditation. He was on a rampage. I stepped aside, and as he barreled past me, he snapped out, "Hope you and Paul Bunyan had a wonderful time last night."

I picked up my pace and followed him into the lobby, my heart banging against my rib cage. This whole thing was my fault, and I wouldn't let Edward take the fall.

By the time I reached the reception area, Mike was already throwing a major tantrum, screaming and waving his arms and making a huge scene, while Emmett was giving him the universal hands held up in surrender and attempting to calm him down. Whatever vicious lies Mike was spreading, I would set the record straight.

"Hey! Excuse m—"

Rosalie hooked her elbow around my arm and forcefully walked me to the opposite side of the lobby. "You're looking well this morning, Bella."

"Rosalie, I need to talk to Emmett. Mike's being—"

"An ass?" She smiled at my dumbfounded response. "Yes, we're aware. It won't do you any good to involve yourself in that mess."

"Is Edward okay? I mean, you didn't fire him or anything, did you?"

"Pshh." Rosalie waved her hand in front of us as if pushing that silliest of all silly ideas far away. "Edward is fine . . . though he was pretty concerned about you this morning. In fact, he made me promise to check on you if you hadn't surfaced by nine, but I'm glad to see that won't be necessary." She had me positioned with my back to the scene at the desk, and she was keeping a close watch over my shoulder.

"Oh, he did, eh? He can be a bit bossy, that one."

"Mmhmm. They're all like that, all three brothers. Especially when they care deeply about something. They're _very_ passionate." She gave me a pointed smile, then turned my shoulders toward the front door, where I caught the tail end of Mike's suitcase wheeling away. "You see? It's taken care of."

I spun around in her arms and caught her in a tight hug. "Thank you."

"Of course, sweetie. Go put some food into your stomach. You must be starved."

.

.

.

The classics shelf was my one genre contribution to the White Mountain Resort, and I knew just where to find my old . . . Wait a second, now . . . what the hell?

No, I did not. Because at some point since Edward and I had reorganized these books three days ago, someone had obviously been tinkering in our sacred space.

What. The. Fuck?

Were those hand-written labels? Holy shit! These bookshelves were not simply organized by genre, but the genres themselves were in alphabetical order, starting with _Adventure_ at the very top. There was only one person I knew of who could even reach that shelf . . . Why, Edward Cullen, what have you been doing in your spare time? And when did he even—

Of course! Last night, while I was drowning myself in wine, Edward had been in here, all clean and fresh and yummy in his non-trail clothes. And he wasn't just sitting in here twiddling his beautiful thumbs; he was finishing what we'd started together as he'd promised that night. Well, I'll be!

 _Classics_ , second shelf. _Fantasy. Mystery. Romance. Science Fiction_. And there at the bottom, _Young Adult_. Bless his fiction-loving heart. My fingers caressed the romance row, picturing the grimace he must have worn as he ordered the many Anne Rice and Nora Roberts titles. Oh, poor Edward.

 _Stop picturing Edward._

Right.

While the fiction section enjoyed a perfect—to my eye—state of completion, its nonfiction counterpoint was quite the mess. I stepped around a line of books toward the corner, where more stacks sat in seemingly random piles on the floor. No rhyme or reason to what was unshelved, except . . . of course! These were simply the titles that happened to have been on the top three shelves, which he'd been systematically emptying when he was so rudely interrupted—by me and my drunken display! Of course it hadn't registered in my alcohol-addled brain last night, but now that I had figured out what he'd been up to . . . I had a little surprise in store for Edward Cullen.

.

.

.

My airtight plan had one gaping hole: I had assumed Edward would be returning from his hard day of trail clearing just before sunset, which gave me a solid chunk of the afternoon to finish what he'd started. Imagine my surprise when he burst through the library door at 4:15.

"Bella! I've been looking everywhere for you. I finally tracked down Rose, and she told me I'd find you in here." He seemed frozen in place, his eyes fixed on me. "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine. Much better, thanks to you."

"What are you doing in here?" He shook off his backpack and stepped into the room. "This was supposed to be a surprise!"

I was busted. He was busted, too. We were busted together.

"Edward, this was a lovely surprise, and I appreciate it. I discovered it by accident this morning when I came in looking for something to read. When I saw what you'd started, I decided to surprise you back by finishing the nonfiction section, but clearly, you've now ruined _my_ surprise."

He laughed as he perused the shelves I'd worked on, hands on his hips, shaking his head at both of us. "It's the thought that counts, right?"

"Well, now we can finish together. I was having trouble reaching the top shelf anyway."

"No, Bella, we can't finish right now." He stepped closer and took my hands in his. His eyes were suddenly wide and excited. "I need to show you something."

"Right now?"

"Yes! We need to hurry. I practically ran the whole way back here so I could pick you up. It won't be safe if we wait too much longer."

"Edward, you're not making any sense. Where are you taking me, and why won't it be safe?"

"It will be completely safe, of course. I've already gotten Emmett and Rose's signoff on this. Now I just need you."

"For what?"

"I finished cutting the trail today. I need to show you."

"You do know it's going to start getting dark soon, right? How are we hiking all the way out there and getting back here today? And also, have you lost your mind? Why are you grinning at me like that?"

"Because you're being extremely cute right now. Yes, Bella, I know all those things. It's a one-way trip; we'll come back tomorrow. We'll get there in time, and I have a very big flashlight, just in case."

"Oh, I'll just bet you do. Only one little problem—I'm leaving tomorrow."

His smile disappeared. "I'm well aware of that too. That's why we have to go tonight. Now."

"Where are we sleeping?"

"Under the stars."

"We're camping out? _Overnight_?"

"Let me worry about all that. You just need to do you."

 _Do me_? "Doing me" involved toilets that flushed and beds that felt like . . . not earth. Maybe he'd listen to reason.

"This is nuts. What about the poisonous snakes and the bears and the other scary things that come out at night?"

"Bella, I have probably spent more nights camped out in these mountains than in my bed. I'm positive I can take care of the two of us for one night. Can't you trust me, please?"

Of course I trusted him. It was me I didn't trust. Me huddled with Edward all alone in the great outdoors, where I would not possibly be able to resist him for the last . . . oh, twenty hours I had planned to hold off. Even subtracting eight hours for sleep time, that was still twelve hours of good intentions being tested to the extreme. I was fucked.

"I do trust you," I finally answered.

He mistakenly took that for my final answer. His face lit up like someone had just given him a little red wagon, his first two-wheeler, and his very own pony. _Crap._

"Great! Go throw together what you absolutely can't live without for one night. And don't forget, I've seen you sleep in your clothes and skip brushing your teeth."

"Let's not hold that up as the standard, please. My bar was pretty low last night."

He cupped my cheeks between both of his big, gentle hands. "It's just you, me, and the mountain, Bella, and I happen to know the mountain and I are extremely easy to please. Oh, wear long pants and bring a sweatshirt. It'll get chilly once the sun goes down."

Damn. _Edworeo strikes again._

.

.

.

Two things were different right off the bat. First, Edward's backpack had grown. It now extended above his shoulders, and it looked like it weighed more than me. Second, he had taken the opportunity to change into fresh clothes.

"You showered. What happened to 'you, me, and the mountain'?"

He cast his gaze to the floor and chuckled. "Yeah, I showered for the 'you' part. I was pretty ripe earlier." When he looked up again, I could see the pink coloring his cheeks. "My sleep roll isn't big enough for how bad I smelled this afternoon."

It was my turn to look away. Exactly how small is that roll we're sharing, mountain man?

He didn't give me much time to think about that. "Anyway . . . ready to go?"

"I guess. You still have that TP in your bag?"

"Never leave home without it."

"Well then, I guess my life is in your hands."

"Guess so." The way he smiled just then . . . all glowing with confidence, eager to show me what he'd been working on for two weeks . . . it was irresistible. Clearly. "After you."

I hadn't been outside all day, thanks to the lingering sting from yesterday's sunburn. In fact, if things had gone according to my plan, we'd still be in the library filing away books. Edward's plan was better.

"Wow. We're going to get a spectacular sunset, aren't we?"

"Mmm." He nodded at the horizon as if he'd staged the whole thing himself.

"Is your pack heavy?" I asked.

"It's fine, Bella. It's a short hike."

I had no idea why I felt the urge to babble and pepper him with questions. We both liked silence, and yet . . . and yet.

"Thanks again for taking care of me last night. You were really sweet."

"That's no problem." He cleared his voice. "I'm glad I could be there."

"I'm glad you had all that excellent first aid training."

I saw the smirk edge up at his lips. "That was more high school survival than first aid training. There's not all that much to do up here besides drinking. We tended to get a little stupid now and then."

"Well, you were kind of a saint."

At that, he gave out a loud, sudden chortle. "Oh, believe me, I am no saint."

"You are when it comes to me."

He kept walking, but he turned his head and gave me a long, fixed stare. His eyes narrowed as if there were heavy thoughts passing behind them. "You're giving me way too much credit."

"Whatever. It would be a lot easier if you would just stop being so perfect all the time."

"I'm perfect now? _And_ a saint? Wow." He shook his head. "What's that supposed to mean anyway? _What_ would be easier?"

 _Whoopsie._ "Nothing. Never mind."

I stared straight ahead even though I could feel his eyes burning two holes in my cheek. This expedition was already not going well, and we'd only gone about a hundred yards. I wondered if he was wishing we hadn't taken this little trip together.

"You know, you're really confusing sometimes." _Ah, apparently so._

Maybe I was confusing because I was so goddamn confused.

"Is that what you meant last night when you said you're terrified of me?"

"What?" His expression said "busted" again.

"Oh, you think I forgot you said that? I was trashed, but that made an impression, Edward. Believe you me."

"I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"I think I hurt your feelings," he said. "I didn't mean to."

"You shouldn't have to be sorry for saying how you feel. That's like the first thing you learn in therapy."

"I've never been in therapy."

It must have been the way he'd said it, like he'd been missing out on some big party the rest of us were going to once a week, but it made me smile, and then it made me giggle. "I think you might be the first person I've ever met who hasn't."

He looked over at me, allowed himself a chuckle, and shrugged. "I grew up with brothers. If something was bothering one of us, we let our fists handle it. Boom. Done. No grudges. Back to the same ol' same ol'."

"Must've worked if you all chose to spend your lives together here as adults."

"If something was too complicated for roughhousing, a case of Miller would usually do the trick. I'll bet that's a whole lot cheaper than an hour of therapy."

"Or hundreds." I wasn't ready to let him off the hook yet. Time was running short, and I had so many more questions for him. "So tell me, why is a big strong mountain man like you afraid of a little thing like me?"

He was quiet for two, three, four steps. My heart was in my throat, unsure what button I might have pushed.

"You know what? All right." He halted. He moved in front of me. Even in the dimming daylight, I could see him well enough to know something intense was burning in his eyes. "So here it is. I don't think you'll be that surprised to learn I don't really like people that much."

I remembered how he'd shied away from the spotlight that first morning, how he seemed more comfortable with the mountain than the guests. How he'd only begrudgingly offered me a place with him up front when he saw that Mike had been badgering me. I didn't fault him for any of that. Takes an introvert to know one.

Somewhere along the way, I'd forgotten all that because Edward never made me feel like he'd rather be alone than with me.

"Okay," I said.

"Well, I happen to like _you,_ Bella _,_ and not in a 'la-dee-da, she's fine' kind of way. I actually _want_ to be with you and look forward to seeing you. I like listening to what you have to say. I crave learning as much as I can about you. And the craziest part, I feel like I want to share important pieces of myself with you that I have _never_ wanted to share with anyone outside of my immediate family. That scares me a little bit." He looked away, huffed, and turned back. "Okay, it scares me a lot."

I moved closer, found his hand, and laced my fingers with his. "I'm scared, too." His lips were so close and too damn far away. "Because, Edward, I . . ." My other hand found his chest, flattened over his heart. "You're so good, it hurts." I was fighting off tears, but my need for him was far more powerful.

He answered me with a whisper. "It doesn't have to hurt. I could never, ever hurt you, Bella."

He cupped my chin and ran his thumb across my lips. He was waiting for me to give him permission, but I couldn't.

"This isn't the part that hurts. That comes tomorrow when we have to say goodbye."

His lips parted in the smallest of smiles. "Oh. Yeah, I've given that a lot of thought, too."

"Oh, you have, have you?" It felt good to smile a little.

"Mmhmm. Hours and hours alone on a mountain will do that to a guy."

As do hours and hours in a room surrounded only by books. "And what have you deduced after all these hours?"

"Well, on the surface, this might sound a bit self-serving . . ."

" _Buuuuut_ . . ."

He chuckled. "But I don't think tomorrow is going to hurt any worse if you let me kiss you right now."

"Fucking hell." My lips met his with an urgency that knocked him backwards and left us both laughing, still connected at the lips while he staggered for his balance.

I grabbed him around his back, grasping at the giant pack, and pulled our bodies together hard—just to help him balance, mind you. His kisses were ridiculous—part mountain man, part sweet, cream-filled center, all man. If we hadn't been pressed for time, I would've jumped him right then and there; _fuck tomorrow_.

But we did have a time constraint, and I didn't want to jeopardize the mission. Besides, we could have a whole lot more fun once we got horizontal on that sleeping roll of his. _In for a penny, in for a pound_ , as Jasper had said. And Edward was way sweeter than any Danish.

I pulled away from Edward's lips most reluctantly, savoring the taste of his tongue on mine, but even more than that, the beautiful light in his eyes. He looked truly happy for the first time in six days. I probably looked the same, and I knew it had been a whole hell of a lot longer than that for me.

"Careful, woman!" he mock-complained. "If you knock me over, I'll be stuck like a beetle on his back; I might never get up!"

"And that would be bad, right?"

"Yes, Bella, very bad. I have big plans for us."

"Plans? What kind of plans?" _Damn,_ I sure as shit hoped they matched up with mine. Mostly, I hoped they would involve a lot more kissing.

Those beautiful eyes narrowed again, shifting from sweet to smoldering in no time flat. He shook his head ever so slightly, and his lips formed a tiny, dangerous smirk. "If I told you, you'd know I'm no saint. Forward march, soldier."

He reached for my hand, and I happily slid my palm onto his bigger hand. He'd touched me so tenderly last night when he was caring for me, I'd never noticed the roughness, but of course his hands would be calloused from all the manual labor. Our fingers wriggled their way into open spaces and wrapped comfortably around each other's.

I could have walked for hours like this, connected to Edward by touch in lieu of any spoken words, the air around us swirling with the lingering memory of that kiss and the anticipation of what would hopefully follow.

* * *

 **THEY KISSED! :D Oh, you caught that? LOL! Well, most of you "guessed" Edward's family would stand behind him, and of course, Bella would fight mightily on his behalf. Now, about this overnight... heh.**

 **Hope everyone in Matthew's path stays safe and power-ful.  
XXX ~BOH**


	6. Chapter 6

**STILL WATERS**

 **/¯\/¯\/¯\/¯\/¯\**

 **CHAPTER 6**

 **.**

We walked side by side, holding hands, even when the path narrowed to the point where only one body could pass, and it was a squeeze at that.

"What happened here, Ranger Rick? Looks like someone got a little bit lazy."

Edward took the lead, stepping ahead of me to hold branches away from my face and caution me about exposed roots and other hazards.

"Not lazy . . . eager. I was on borrowed time. I can clean this up another day. The important thing was to break through." His footsteps picked up speed, and he tugged me along behind him as fast as my boots could carry me.

"Break through to what?"

"This."

Eyes wild with exhilaration and a grin that went on for days, Edward turned to face forward and pull me through the last of the narrow passage. As he stepped to the side, I realized we had reached the edge of the forest.

"Well, Bella? What do you think?"

In front of us, nestled into the valley, was a gorgeous lake, perfectly untouched by man or machine.

"It's beautiful. How did you know this was here? I don't see any other trails or roads leading up here."

"Lived here all my life, remember? Hence, the trail I have been cutting. This lake is on our family's property, always has been, but my folks never had the motivation to cut through and access it. When we started thinking about my coming up here and working for Emmett and Rosalie, we talked about what I could contribute. Emmett had the idea to cut through and annex the lake as part of the resort."

I took a deep breath and let the majesty of the place wash over me. "Okay. I get it now."

"Yeah."

"So, are we going swimming?" I shook our joined hands between us and gave him a subtle tug toward the water's edge.

" _Suuuuure_ ," he answered with an indulgent grin, no doubt wondering what kind of crazy he might be dealing with. "I thought maybe we'd do that tomorrow, when it's above fifty degrees outside? You know, when the _sun_ comes out again? During the day?"

"Hmm, I suppose we could do it that way . . . _or_ . . ."

What happened next I blame on Edward and that kiss. I was fresh out of resistance. I jiggled free of his hand and started a deliberate, backward stride toward the water.

" _Bella_? What the hell are you doing?" His smile faded; mountain man took control. "That water is going to be freezing!"

I nodded. "Yep. You can stay dry if you're not up for it." I reached for the hem of my hoodie, pulled it over my head, and tossed it at him as I kept moving.

He matched my pace with anxious steps forward. "You're serious."

"As a heart attack." Which I was about to give him, but I had a feeling we'd both survive.

"Yeah, let's hope not."

It was time to play dirty. I yanked my T-shirt out of my pants, took a deep breath for courage, and started it over my head. I didn't exactly have my sexiest lingerie under my hiking clothes, but the white cotton bra seemed to hold his interest. He stared at me, dumbfounded, for several long seconds before his instincts kicked in.

"Jesus Christ, Bella," he muttered. His pack hit the ground, and he threw my sweatshirt on top of it. "You are not going in there without me." With one swift motion, he grabbed the back of his shirt, wrenched it over his head, and flung it onto the pile.

 _Fuck me._ Mountain man had abs, and a whole lot of them. Now, _there_ was a mountain range I wanted to explore ridge by blessed ridge . . . starting with my tongue at the top of Nipple Peak. His chest heaved with not-entirely-gentle tension as we stood there in a face-off—er, a clothes off—the grim set of his mouth as scary as it was exciting. He didn't particularly appreciate my putting both of us in peril.

 _Well, tough shit, Edward Cullen. You brought me out here in the middle of fucking nowhere and showed me this place and made me kiss you_. _And by the way, could you have mentioned I might want to bring a bathing suit? So, now . . . goddammit . . . you're coming in that lake with me!_

He stalked closer; I stepped back.

"Bella, be careful! Watch where you're walking."

Yeah, it was getting dark out. I was walking backwards.

I unsnapped my pants. He licked his lips.

I stopped walking long enough to kick off my boots and pants and shove my socks off my feet.

"Fuck!" Edward did the same, revealing the sexiest pair of athletic boxers I'd ever seen on an actual, live man.

We both stared. We both shivered.

I was freezing but I would've had goosebumps in a heat wave, standing in front of him like this, seeing and being seen.

There was no time for awkward. No time for thinking at all. I turned around to face the lake, and I marched forward. He was at my back before my toe reached the water.

 _Don't chicken out, Bella. Keep going._

I walked. He followed. He hissed and swore as the cold water registered on his toes, ankles, calves. I bit my cheek and ignored the cold.

He'd stopped trying to stop me; now, he was just trying to keep up and stay close to me, in case of a tidal wave or something . . . or, fuck, were there sea snakes in here? Other biting menaces? I probably should have thought this through a little better.

Not asking. _In for a penny . . ._

I pulled in a deep breath, took a running leap, and dove just below the surface, swimming as far as my lungful of air and my underwater breaststroke would take me in the icy, murky water.

 _Maybe not my best idea._

My toes touched down on the slithery slime at the bottom, and I remembered why I hated swimming in lakes as a kid. Yuck, yuck, yuck. I bounced from one foot to the other, trying to warm up. I couldn't decide which half of me was colder—the bottom still plunged in waist-deep ice water or the mud-caked hair, bare arms, and soaking wet bra, chilling in the mountain air.

I turned back to find Edward, but he wasn't standing on the shore, and I couldn't see squat in the water. Jesus, what if he couldn't swim? What if he hit his head on the bottom or swam into a rock or forgot to hold his breath or—

The water rippled in front of me, and a completely muck-covered mountain man surfaced with a gasp of breath about two feet from my belly. A huge, relieved sigh escaped me as he stood up and pushed the wet hair off his face. He looked . . . angry, very cold, and extremely hot, not necessarily in that order.

I felt a little bad about all that, well, not the part where he looked hot. I actually felt pretty good about that part. He'd probably forgive me—eventually.

"Hi?"

He crossed his arms and knit his brows. "That's all you have to say for yourself? 'Hi'?"

"Oops?"

"Thank you for reminding me why I don't like people."

I lifted my feet and drifted closer to him. He narrowed his eyes, adorably petulant. He was working so hard to stay mad.

"You look cold," I said, cautiously placing my hands onto his arms.

He fixed his mouth in that grim line I'd seen before. I rubbed his arms. His gaze drifted lower . . . down my neck . . . onto my chest.

"You—" His voice cracked, and he started over. "You look a bit chilly yourself." His breathing picked up. Mine did, too.

"Mm, I could use some warming." I moved forward until my legs knocked into his. My hands moved up to his shoulders, around his neck. He opened his arms and circled them around my back.

"You are going to be the death of me, Bella Swan."

I cracked a smile. "Some survival guru you are. Can't even manage a little twilight swim with a naked girl?"

"You're not n—"

I reached around and unclipped my bra before he could get the word out. A slow, sexy smile spread across his face. "A half-naked girl."

I grinned back. "You might want to kiss me before you take off my underwear, Aquaman."

He pulled me in tight against his hard, cold chest and placed his lips on mine. So cold on the outside, so cozy and hot on the inside. He dipped us down to our necks in the water. It was just the two of us moving in the vast, dark quiet . . . all I could hear was the soft smack of lips and the play of tongues and the gentle shooshing of the water moving out of our way as we spun and cut across the lake. Edward's body was all I had to hold onto, and that was more than enough.

My hands dug through his crazy, silt-coated hair, drawing low grunts that echoed into my mouth. I felt his palm slide up my side and open to take in my breast. For someone I'd regarded as gentle and controlled, Edward was surprisingly uncivilized with me. I wasn't complaining.

He moaned into my mouth as his rough fingertips found my puckered nipple. I groaned, and he pinched me harder. Perhaps mountain man was working out some of his aggression for being dragged into the cold lake. I sure as hell didn't mind, but he deserved some good old-fashioned teasing, too.

I lowered my hips until I found what I was looking for. From the feel of Edward's insistent bulge, shrinkage was not an issue. He gave out an anguished cry and pulled back from our kiss, struggling for breath as I pulsed my hips in an underwater lap dance.

"Bella."

"Mmm?"

"Fuck! Stop that!"

"Why?" I giggled and nibbled tiny bites along his delicious chin line.

"Because . . ." He pulled my mouth off his face so he could give me one of his trademark _I am not fucking around here_ looks. "Bacteria!"

Buzz? Killed.

" _What_?"

"We can't do this here. It wouldn't be safe for you. You could get an infection in your—"

I cupped my hand over his mouth before he said the word I definitely didn't want to hear. "Not your most romantic moment."

I let go in time to see that sheepish grimace he had down pat. "I promised to take care of you."

I rolled my hips over his erection again. "There's more than one way to take care of a person, you know."

I gave him my best pout. He kissed me very sweetly.

"You see that backpack lying on the ground over there?" He tipped his chin toward his backpack, buried in our discarded clothing.

"Mmhmm?"

"Inside, there are two towels and a box of condoms."

 _Well, well, well, mountain man. I guess you_ did _have some plans._ "Pretty sure of yourself there, weren't you?"

"Uh . . . no. I was hoping to steal a kiss at some point. But what kind of boy scout would I be if I weren't fully prepared for our first overnight?"

"Technically, we've already slept together."

"True, true." He chuckled as he subtly moved us toward dry land. "So, is this our second date . . . or do we count our hike as the first? Does it even matter? I have no idea how these things work."

"For a guy who doesn't know how things work, you're doing pretty well."

"Not bad for a saint, huh?" He gave me a silly waggle of his eyebrows, then walked us right out of the water with me hugging his body like a tree trunk. "You, uh . . . mind sliding off me so I can grab the towels?"

"If I must." I did as he asked and instantly missed the warmth of his body against mine. From the way he was staring at me, I'd say he missed me too.

"That might be the second decision I'll regret later. _Anyway_ . . ."

He dropped to one knee next to his pack, and I took the opportunity to enjoy the view offered by his deliciously clingy boxers while he worked the backpack zipper as quickly as his numb fingers would allow. He tossed me the first towel he came across before pulling the other one around his own shoulders. He rose and moved in front of me, toe to toe, leaning in to give me a gentle kiss on the lips. "Definitely a step backwards."

"Tell me about it." I cast my eyes longingly toward the bottom of his towel. That earned me a cute blush.

"There was something I meant to tell you earlier," he said, "but I didn't have a chance between the time you ripped off your clothes and dove into the lake."

"Oh yeah?" I kissed him back. "What's that?"

"You're beautiful." He lifted the edges of his towel like a cape and wrapped it and himself around my shoulders. "I can't seem to stop kissing you."

"I'm okay with that." Our kisses shared a natural rhythm. What started out gentle moved to urgent, and when breathing became a challenge, we slowed again.

I moved my lips to his ear. "Is it safe to take off my underwear now?" I trapped his earlobe between my teeth, and he yelped.

"Oh, I think you absolutely should."

I swirled my tongue around his ear and gave him an extra-breathy, "Oh yeah?"

He let out a groan. "Yes. And then, you should put on some dry clothes."

I pulled back to see if he was serious. Yep, he was. " _What_? Didn't you skip a few details?"

"Yes, I did. I'm going to get dressed, too, and then I'm going to set up camp and build a fire and heat up our dinner."

He was exasperating in mountain man mode, and I suspected there would be no changing his stubborn mind. Still, I had to try. "But what about those condoms?"

When he smiled, I caught a glint of mischief in his eyes. "They'll still be there in an hour."

.

.

.

To nobody's surprise, he followed post-meal protocol to the letter of the hiker's handbook. _This might be the third decision you'll regret later, Edward Cullen_.

I'd already done everything I could to speed the process along; now, I could only watch and wait while he "responsibly sealed" our leftovers inside heavy-duty plastic containers. The garbage received even more meticulous treatment.

Patience wasn't exactly my strong suit, but I had to admit, sitting under the clear, starry night next to the crackling fire built with my own personal mountain man's own two hands, my belly pleasantly full of barbecue chicken, watching him move through his duties with grace and skill . . . wasn't terrible.

Still, I had a pretty good idea what was about to happen, thanks to our earlier preview of coming attractions. I wanted him, and I couldn't focus on anything else. Thankfully, he seemed to have finished and now stood with hands on hips, surveying the area one final time for any microscopic food scraps.

"Okay, we should be sufficiently bear-proofed," he announced, plopping down beside me on the bed roll.

" _Should_ be?"

The campfire flames danced inside his brilliant green irises, but only for a split-second before he flung himself at me and flattened me to the ground. "That bear is just gonna have to wait his turn."

Despite his frantic take-down, Edward had managed to cushion the impact on my head and back— _of course he had_. Even his mauling was carefully contained.

He moved above and below me, everywhere at once, and when he tired of that position, he rolled us both so his own back took the brunt of the rugged earth. He wasted no time slipping his hand inside my shirt and grinning widely when he realized I hadn't put on a bra this time. His pace slowed, but his need was no less urgent. He bucked his hips up into mine, groaning when I pushed back.

The fire and the friction worked their charms, allowing us to peel off clothing layer by layer until we were both completely bare. I guessed this wasn't a first for Edward, but the closest I'd ever come to fucking outdoors was heavy petting on the beach. I could now begin to appreciate the allure of the third lover, Edward's mountain.

The utter stillness, the cool caress of its infinite fingers, forcing us two humans to huddle together for warmth, cocooning us inside its rugged, stunning embrace—the perfect backdrop to experience this exquisite man underneath me, utterly and literally in his element.

He was a thoughtful, generous lover. Not that either of us was polished or expert at this, just that the pure goodness of his spirit imbued every touch, every kiss, every ragged breath. Edward's quiet depth fed the agony and the pleasure of our mutual need, his gentle and rough sides competing for turns with my body.

His fingers teased my cool skin, finally moving to the spot between my legs, where he found me wet and wanting. He touched me softly; I came hard.

When I opened my eyes, he smiled at me and kissed the tears off my cheeks. His silence was yet another gift as were the gentle, patient strokes of his fingertips down my arm and back. Gratitude welled up inside me as I lay against the delicious security of his body.

When I stirred in his arms, ready for more, he settled me over his hips and braced me with firm hands at my waist. I latched onto his muscular arms while I rode him. He let me set the pace, answering with soft grunts when I worked into a steady rhythm, growling when I slowed to kiss him, clenching his teeth when I started up again. I couldn't look away from the sexy sizzle in his half-hooded eyes.

Without warning, he pushed up into a sitting position and clamped my nipple between his teeth. His hips took over, thrusting deeper inside me while his tongue lapped at my breast. His lips pressed a messy trail of kisses upward. Just before his release, he buried his face in my neck and moaned.

* * *

What a naughty girl this Bella turned out to be! And what about Ed? The man's got a rough side! RAWR! I think that bear had his turn after all! Teeheehee. Was there any doubt Edward would take the hard earth against his back? And that sit-up move at the end? Don't try this at home, folks!

I've really enjoyed reading the reviews to this story. You guys have brought out some really stunning points about all the characters, even ones we never meet (Alice) that I honestly had not thought of before. That means you internalized the characters and you're seeing right into their hearts...without me. (sob) That's a tremendous compliment. Thank you for being here and sharing your thoughts and feelings with me! If I've somehow missed your review and not responded, please make sure to yell at me this time! Sometimes reviews get stuck between pages...it's complicated! **XXX ~BOH  
** P.S. - *whispers* onlyonemorechapterleft

Current Events:  
Our **ThreeHotPotatoes collab, "Rightfully Qualified"** \- an election hot potato pitting Senator Swan and playboy Edward Cullen against each other- is already headed sideways, so that's...interesting.  
BUT THIS IS VERY COOL- my very good friend **Shell Taylor** (shellshock81 on here) is about to release her 3rd book in the Home For Hope series, **_Reclaiming Hope_. ** Up for pre-order now on Dreamspinner Press!


	7. Chapter 7

**STILL WATERS**

 **/¯\/¯\/¯\/¯\/¯\**

 **CHAPTER 7**

 ** _WEDNESDAY, MAY 26  
"Mountain therapy," night 6_**

 ** _So, that happened. Twice._**

 ** _Tomorrow ought to be fun._**

 ** _#lifesucksandthenyou'redead_**

.

.

.

"Your marshmallow is on fire!"

He jostled me from behind, but I pressed my back against his chest and pinned him in place. His body made such a comfortable lounge chair when he wasn't being all twitchy.

"I know it is. I did that on purpose."

"What? Why?"

"It's called 'toasting.'"

"You're not doing it right."

"I was not aware there were rules on marshmallow toasting."

"They're more like generally accepted guidelines."

"How about you toast yours and I'll toast mine?"

"Fine, but you're ruining your breakfast."

I cracked a smile. Edward had already stepped well outside his comfort zone this morning, agreeing to forgo the sensible oatmeal he'd brought in favor of the s'mores we'd never quite gotten around to enjoying last night.

Still, it wouldn't be right to let his rigidity go unchecked, even if I wouldn't be around much longer to see it. I considered this a public service . . . to the next girl . . .

 _Aw, fuck_.

"It tastes better when it's a little singed."

"A _little_ singed? You've got a forest fire going at the end of your stick!"

The flames had grown significantly since we'd started this little battle; I blew as vigorously as I could while still appearing nonchalant. "Relax, Smoky. I have extinguished the raging inferno."

"Smoky?" He chuffed behind me.

"Would you prefer Paul Bunyan? That's what Mike called you yesterday."

"Pshh, on his way out, I hope."

"Yep." I slid the charred remains of the marshmallow off the stick using two graham crackers, stuffed a chocolate square inside the sticky mess, and shoved half of it into my mouth.

"How's your ash sandwich?" he asked.

"Breakfast of champions! I'm sure your marshmallow will be sensibly tanned by lunchtime."

"Some things are worth waiting for." He scooped my hair away and pressed a soft kiss to the base of my neck. A chill rushed down my spine.

 _Gawd. Mountain man was mushier than the inside of my marshmallow._

"I think you better stop that soon."

His lips moved across my collarbone. "Stop what?"

"Stop being so sweet."

His kisses stopped, and he pulled away. "Why?"

"Because." I sighed. _Shit_. "Because now, we've come to the part that hurts."

"Oh." He reached for the graham crackers and chocolate at his side. He placed two perfectly scored chocolate squares on top of his crisply broken cracker, slid his perfectly toasted marshmallow between the two sides, and took a thoughtful bite. "About that . . ."

I couldn't take the physical contact any more, now that I'd invoked the end. I slid away from his body and shoved another marshmallow on my stick. "Yeah, that."

"I had a crazy thought," he said, gaze darting to me, then away.

"I thought crazy was my department." Neither of us made the effort to smile at my lame joke.

"What were you planning to do all summer back in Hartford?"

"Stress out about getting a teaching job for the fall."

"Why not do that here? With me."

"What?"

He cast aside his stick, sucked the sticky residue off his fingers and knee-walked over to where I was trying to escape him. Very slowly, he pulled the twig out of my hands, set it down on the blanket, and grasped both my hands in his. "Stay here with me."

"Right _here_?"

"Yes." He stared at me while I shook my head. "No! I didn't mean right here on this trail. I meant here in New Hampshire."

"Edward, I can't afford the retreat—"

"Oh my god!" He slapped the heel of his hand against his forehead. "I am making a horrible mess of this."

My thoughts raced along with my heart. Stay _here?_ Not go back home? Not leave Edward and this . . . whatever this might turn into?

"Okay." He grasped my hands again, started over. "Sooo, would you consider staying up here for a week or a month or even the summer? I've committed to Emmett and Rosalie that I will stick around through the end of August, continue to clear trails, and see what all I can do to enhance the outdoor programs here. You could stay at the family house with me, so you wouldn't have to pay for housing, or even food, and we can . . . not have to say goodbye just yet."

Bits and pieces of what he was saying were making their way inside my head, but I couldn't put together enough of the puzzle to see the whole picture. "Are you asking me to move in with you?"

He smiled. "So to speak. It's a really big house. You can have your own room if you want."

"Why would I want that?"

He shook his head and laughed. "I don't know. I felt like I should offer." I think I was confusing him as much as he was confusing me.

"Who all lives in the house?"

"At the moment, Jas and Alice and now Louisa live in the main house, and I live in the carriage house."

"What's a carriage house?"

He laughed again. "It's basically a garage, but I have my own apartment above it. Indoor plumbing, Wi-Fi, and a microwave. All the comforts of home."

I was warming to the idea. "Hmm, do you have a bed?"

"Yep, a big one, in fact. Plenty of room for two."

"What about Emmett and Rosalie?"

"They have their own bed."

Oh, he was really proud of that one. "Where?"

"They live at the inn 24/7. Somebody needs to stay on site in case of an emergency."

"Okay." This was starting to sound way too good to be true.

"In the interest of full disclosure, I should probably mention my parents usually spend most of the summer here, too. But they're pretty easy to live with, and my dad is an amazing cook."

 _Meeting the folks. Explaining why you're living with their son after knowing him less than a week. Good times._

"You'd have to let me pitch in for food and stuff. I don't want to be a mooch. I do have some savings set aside from my fellowship last year, and I never took that graduation trip to Europe my parents wanted to give me. I don't think they would mind if I put it toward a summer here instead of a couple of weeks in Barcelona and Paris."

His smile spread so wide, I thought his face might crack. "You're saying yes."

"I am?"

"Yes, you basically already _did_." He leaned in and kissed me.

"Edward, wait." I pressed my hand to his chest and held him off. "I have to talk to my parents first."

"Fine." He brushed away my hand and kissed me even harder.

"Also . . ."

He scowled when my hand went up again.

"I had sort of informally agreed to help at this little sandwich shop back home, so I need to tell the Banners I can't—"

He pinned me to the ground, laughing and kissing me. "This is gonna be so great, Bella."

A terrible thought entered my head, and I hated to do it, but I turned my head to the side. "What if it isn't, Edward?"

 _Oh, shit._ He looked like someone had set fire to all his marshmallows. But to his credit, Edward didn't just knee-jerk with some meaningless platitude. He sat back on his heels, and he gave the question some serious thought.

"I don't see why it wouldn't work. We'll have mountains and books and each other. But, if something awful were to happen . . . between us . . . I guess you could just go home and take that job at the deli."

He had it all figured out, and it all seemed so reasonable when he said it. "Maybe you should be the one to talk to my parents," I joked.

Without missing a beat, he answered, "I'd love to meet them. Maybe I could drive home with you at some point to pick up your stuff."

Good god, he was serious. "That won't be necessary. All my worldly possessions are in my car."

"Even better. All we have to do is move you into my place, and that's that."

"Well, we do still have that project we need to finish in the library."

"Right." He grinned. "I was trying to figure out how to approach the travel section. I mean, there are so many ways to do it. Geographically, by continent, then alphabetically . . ."

"By publisher . . ." I offered.

"In order of places we want to visit . . ."

Did Edward just invite me to see the world with him? I guessed the world probably contained a whole lot of outdoor wonders, and I wouldn't mind venturing outside my comfort zone with my own personal survival guide.

I was still trying to wrap my head around not leaving in three hours, and he was planning our lives. It was a bit overwhelming in the best possible way.

I shook my head. "It's a mess. We're definitely going to need to study that."

"Mmm, might need a field trip into Conway to see how a real bookstore does it."

"I kind of love that idea." What a beautiful picture he'd just drawn for us, walking hand in hand through one of New England's many quaint towns. The summer stretched out before my eyes like the bright checkered tablecloth—no telling what we'd serve, but who the hell cared as long as we tasted everything together?

He slapped his knees and stood up suddenly. "I don't know about you, Bella, but I'm feeling pretty sticky from all those perfectly toasted marshmallows. Should we see how the water is this morning?"

"Only if you promise to keep me warm." I was already peeling off my T-shirt and shorts, and he was already looking.

"You know I will."

 **/¯\/¯\/¯\/¯\/¯\**

* * *

Well, I gave them a summer, anyway! After that, these two kids will think of the next thing themselves. And I have a feeling with his planning skills and her wild imagination, they'll figure it all out! Telling their story, while brief, has been a most satisfying journey for me. I gave my Mountain Man the fresh air he needed outside my brain, and I fixed up a stressed-out mess of a Bella, who really needed him.

For my regulars, thanks for being here. It's always great fun to see you people in my inbox and catch up again! For the newbies who made their way over based on a recommendation, thanks for giving me a shot! It's been fun getting to know you! If anyone is looking for more of my words, there are more than a million here and another couple million on my blog, many of them Edward/Bella but some male/male pairings as well. Also, I'll be entering a story in the **PS I Love You** contest here on fanfic in November. I can't tell you which story is mine, of course...but maybe you'll figure it out! And if you miss me, find me on Facebook ( **Kaye P. Hallows** ) or come play in **Born's Pumpkin Patch**!

The thank-yous, again: **Jeannie Boom** for hosting the Fandom for Mental Health, to raise money and awareness for issues surrounding mental health, the heart and soul of this story, a sweet lady with a huge heart and never-ending determination! To **Noel Bish/Oh Gee!** for pre-reading my story and helping me with mountain tools, and **Betti Gefecht** for lending the shirt off her back to make the story banner, and always, my **Chayasara** , who makes sure the words are the best they can be. Love you all.

To everyone who left a review, I thank you for sharing your thoughts and lively responses. Reviews are the currency of this community, and I cherish each one. To anyone who recommended the story to a friend (or 200K followers), you're the butter on my bread. Thank you so much!  
 **XOXOXO ~BOH**


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